“I can’t help it; this isn’t like you at all. I know the blood exchange changes things—including mood and body chemistry—but this is beyond any kind of scientific explanation.”

“Listen,” I sighed and reached for my plastic bottle. “I want to get this sh!t over and done. Can we strive to obtain that goal? I have a meaningless existence, and I can’t put that kind of action on hold indefinitely”

“Don’t tell me,” I snickered. “You’re in a club that gathers together like raving Trekkies to share secrets of the afterlife. I bet you even have an Enigma CD you crank up to get in the mood.” “Don’t be silly.” His face lit up with an enormous grin. “We listen to Enya, not Enigma.”

“Stop a knife? You're serious.""As a heart attack.""You are something else."I couldn't tell if he was giving me a compliment or a veiled insult. "I try to be an individual. It's all the rage.”

“Stripping is not a fair or unbiased career field. Your body and looks are your livelihood. Once those two things go, it’s only a matter of time before you punch your last T and A ticket – and Erica’s stub was wilting faster than a golden wrapped candy bar that would gain her admittance into the chocolate factory.”

“You know.” My voice was laced with sarcasm. “I love being reminded of just how f*cked up people find my company. One minute, I’m asked to be more loving and sweet. In fact, someone once told me it was downright adorable. But when I actually give the public what they want, they think I’m suffering from a chemical imbalance.”

“Rule number one that all girls must learn. If you’re told to lie down on the floor during a robbery or tostep inside a waiting car during a kidnapping, you’re not doing yourself any favors by cooperating. You’reessentially handing the bastards a loaded gun and giving them express permission to shoot you in the head.”