“Billy's Adam's apple bobbed. "Don't-" The knife at his throat cut him short.Black Tom cocked a thick brow. "Don't, wha? Hurt your littl' toffer?" Rotted teeth flashed. "She mean that much ta ye, then?"Bill licked his lips quickly. His skin took on a grayish hue as sweat seeded over his high brow. "Don't piss 'er off," he managed.”

“He curled his claw into a fist. "I'd like to shove a stake up that bastard's ass."Adam's lip curled. "Remind me not to piss you off."The demon raised his brow. "Trust that shit, mancy.”

“His brows were lowered in concentration. Thick, sooty lashes hid his eyes.They lifted and his lips spread into a grin.I was in so much trouble.”

“Roarke's brow cocked as he noted Casto take in the black satin that slithered over Eve's body. In the manner of men or unfriendly male dogs, Roarke showed his teeth.”

“Do you know what you mean to me?" he murmurs, "If something happened to you, because of me..." His voice trails off, his brow creasing, and the pain that flashes across his face is almost palpable. He looks so vulnerable - his fear very much apparent.”

“The Witcher had a knife to his throat. He was wallowing in a wooden tub, brimfull with soapsuds, his head thrown agains the slippery rim. The bitter taste of soap lingered in his mouth as the knife, blunt as a doorknob, scraped his Adam's apple painfully and moved towards his chin with a grating sound.”