“Bad deeds like beauty, are in the eye of the beholder.”

“But then, gifts are like beauty, arethey not. It is in the eye of the recipient that they find their seat, not in the hand of the giver.”

“She wanted to walk into a crowded restaurant where a man would look up and take her into his arms with his eyes. She wanted to know what it was like to feel that she was beautiful to someone and had been eagerly waited for”

“Especially as Blay’s face came to mind. So beautiful. So very, very beautiful. It seemed silly and emasculating to call the guy that, but he was. Those damn lips were the problem … nice and cushioned on the bottom. Or maybe the eyes? So fucking blue.He’d kissed that mouth and loved it. Seen those eyes go wild. He could have had Blay first—and only. But instead? His cousin …“Oh, God …” he groaned.”

“Abruptly, she yanked the covers over her crippled one, hiding it from him. Tohr marched right back over to her, and resolutely pulled the duvet back where it had been. Tracing the badly healed wounds with his fingertips, he met her squarely in the eye."You're beautiful. Every inch of you. Don't think for a moment there's anything wrong with you. We clear?""But-""Nope. I'm not hearing that." Bending down he pressed his lips to her shin, her calf, her ankle, tracing the scars, caressing them. "Beautiful. All of you.""How can you say that," she whispered blinking back tears."Because it's the truth."Straightening, he gave her a final squeeze. "No hiding from me, okay. And after I feed you, I think I'm going to have to show you just how serious I am."That made her smile....then laugh a little."That's my girl." he murmured.”

“Qhuinn's eyes shifted away from his buddy--and just happened to measure the distance down to the stone patio below. Hmm . . . doing a swan dive onto all that slate might just get the images of those two out of his head... of course, it would also turn his brain into scrambled eggs, but really, was that such a bad thing?”

“Too bad the freedom seemed like a prison.As his boots hit the mosaic floor at the bottom of the stairs, John Mellencamp's old-school, bic-lighter anthem echoed in his head-and though he'd always like the song okay, he'd never truly understood what it meant.Kind of wished that were still the case.Life goes on...long after the thrill of living is gone...”