“The thing was, Qhuinn felt like he wanted to explain things. Unfortunately, and unlike his slut cousin, Saxton the Cocksucker, he had no gift with words.”

“His slut of a cousin, his cocksucking, suit-wearing, Montblanc-up-theass cousin Saxton the Magnificent, was standing next to the queen, looking like a combination of Cary Grant and some model in a goddamn cologne ad.Not that Qhuinn was bitter.Because the guy was sharing Blay’s bed.Nah.Nope. Not at all.”

“Ah, hell.His peripheral vision was working far too well tonight.His slut of a cousin, his cocksucking, suit-wearing, Montblanc-up-the-ass cousin Saxton the Magnificent, was standing next to the queen, looking like a combination of Cary Grant and some model in a goddamn cologne ad.Not that Qhuinn was bitter.Because the guy was sharing Blay's bed.Nah.Nope. Not at all.The Cocksucker-With a wince, he thought maybe he should switch that insult to something a little farther away from what the two of them ...God, he couldn't even go there. Not if he wanted to breathe.”

“Love, after all, was universal. Qhuinn closed his fist up tight, and knew he would never, ever take that ring off. “Always,” Blay murmured. “Because family is an always kind of thing.”

“Shit. With Qhuinn looking at him like that, he couldn’t remember his own name. Blaysox? Blacklock? Blabberfox? Who the fuck knew…”

“Qhuinn dived into the plane, pulled himself into the pilot’s seat, and tried to make sense of all the…fucking hell, there were a lot of dials. The only saving grace he had was that he’d—Rat-tat-tat-tat!—watched enough movies to know that the lever with the grip was the gas and the bow tie–shaped wheel was the thing you pulled up to go up, and pushed down to go down.“Fuck,” he muttered as he stayed in a tuck position as much as he could.”

“I'm in love," he said hoarsely. "With someone else. That's why."Qhuinn (Lover Unleashed)”