“Two hours later he was ready to kill her. Even his outraged mind, however, recognized that murder was not a viable option, and so he contented himself with devising various plans to make her suffer.Torture was probably too trite, he decided, and he didn't have the stomach to use it on a female. Although ... He looked over at the person in the baggy breeches. She appeared to be smiling as she lugged the stones. She was no ordinary female.He shook his head. There were other ways to make her miserable. A snake in her bed perhaps? No, the blasted woman probably liked snakes. A spider? Didn't everyone hate spiders?”

““What kind of a snake would marry a woman and not bother to tell her about it? His anguish touched her, and she felt another stabbing pain in her heart, but she tried to overlook it. “Well?” she demanded. “What kind of a lying snake would do such a thing?"He closed his eyes, shaking his head. When he met her gaze again, Lucy saw bleak frustration and pain in his eyes, his vulnerability laid bare. “ snake so blindly in love he could not help himself,” he admitted in a rusty whisper”

“She dug around in her bag, found what she was looking for, and brought the little stuffed dog back to bed with her. Childish, yeah. She didn't care. He was soft and cuddly-unlike Jones-and she had a need for soft and cuddly right now. She'd like to meet a woman who could breeze through a shotgun blast and not need something to hold on to. Even if it was just an old stuffed pup.(...)She swallowed hard,then caught her breath when he opened his eyes, turned his head on the pillow toward her. He searched her face in the dark."Come here," he whispered.When she hesitated, he reached for her. "The dog can come, too.”

“She didn't care for the way he stared at her, either. Even when he wasn't looking at her it felt as if he were staring. And as if he'd read her thoughts, he shifted his eyes to hers again. His smile was slow, unmistakably insolent, and made her want to bare her teeth in a snarl.”

“He cradled her face between his hands, angled his mouth over hers, and welcomed the bliss she offered. Boldly, she gave her tongue the freedom to roam within his mouth. She sighed. He moaned.He thought a man could become spoiled touching a woman. He might never want to touch stone again. Stone wasn't warm. It didn't alter its shape with the gentlest of pressures. Stone didn't breathe so he could feel its moisture on his face. Rocks didn't make soft sounds that he'd carry with him until the day he died.”

“She’s no ordinary ghost, that seems certain,” he says. “I know. Something’s made her stronger.” “The way she died?” he asks. “I’m not sure. From what I’ve heard, she was just murdered like so many others. Throat slit. But now she’s haunting her old house, killing whoever steps inside, like some goddamn spider.”