“How could I possibly keep my cool while getting sweaty with him? What if I screamed out something horrifying, like "I love you?" What if I had an epileptic attack and started drooling or spitting right in the middle of things?”

“I stared at him in silence. There were so many things I wanted to say. Like, How could you think what I feel for you is only physical? or, Don't you know you're my best friend? and finally, Bones, I love-”

“I stretched out my hands as if to ward him off. “Not yet. I want to know what your end game is first.” Another flash of teeth, this time showing his fangs. “To have you screaming my name within the hour.”

“Do you know what happened the last time I loved someone?”Growled against my skin with such tempered violence that my shiver turned into a shudder. I nodded.“No you don’t.” Another lethal growl. “You only know how she died. Let me tell you how she lived— in fear. My actions horrified her, as they horrify you. My enemies exploited her, as they exploit you, so it was more than an advancing army that made her throw herself from our roof. It was me.”

“The cool thing about being a writer is: you get to make stuff up. When I started wring about Vampires, I realized, I can take everything i did like about that mythology and anything I didn't like, I didn't have to; because until a real Vampire stands up and says, 'you've got it wrong,' it's anyone's game.”

“I had just put my arms around him in a hug of gratitude when the door opened behind me without a knock. “Am I interrupting something?” a coolly pissed, accented voice asked. This time, my glance heavenward was in silent challenge. Is that how it is? Fine, then, bring it! Let’s see what you’ve got! Timmie jumped like he’d been stabbed. “Ungh!” I didn’t know what that meant, but the sight of him leaping away with a hand shielding his groin had me turning around in irritation. “Dammit, tell him you’re not going to neuter him!” Bones folded his arms and regarded Timmie without pity. “Why?” I gave him an evil look. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to get really, really celibate.”

“See, Don, I have this question, and I hope you’ll be honest with me.”He pulled at the end of his eyebrow. “I think you know you can count on my honesty.”“Can I?” I asked with an edge. “All right, then tell me: How long have you been fucking me?”That caused him to stop tugging his brow. “I don’t know what you’re saying—”“Because if I was going to fuck you,” I interrupted, “I’d get a bottle of gin, some Frank Sinatra music…and a crash cart for the heart attack you’d have. But you, Don, you’ve been fucking me for years now, and I haven’t gotten any liquor, music, flowers,candy, or anything!”