“Stark looked strong and healthy and totally gorgeous. I was distracting myself by wondering what exactly Scottish guys did, or didn't, wear under those kilts when he turned to face me.His smile lit up his eyes. "I can practically hear you thinking.”

“I still didn't look at him. I was afraid if I did that, I would turn around, run back to him, and hurl myself into his arms.”

“His torn lips didn't stop Stark's cocky smile. "You're my queen, and anyone who says different can fuck off.”

“Do vampyres play chess? Were there vampyre dorks? How about Barbie-like vampyre cheerleaders? Did any vampyres play in the band? Were there vampyre Emos with their guy-wearing-girl’s-pants weirdness and those awful bangs that cover half their faces? Or were they all those freaky Goth kids who didn’t like to bathe much? Was I going to turn into a Goth kid? Or worse, an Emo? I didn’t particularly like wearing black, at least not exclusively, and I wasn’t feeling a sudden and unfortunate aversion to soap and water, nor did I have an obsessive desire to change my hairstyle and wear too much eyeliner.”

“When I did finally speak, I surprised myself by saying exactly what was on my mind.
“You must hate me.”She stared a long time at me.I did,” she said slowly, “But it’s mostly myself I hate.”Don’t,” I said.And why the hell shouldn’t I hate myself? Everybody else hates me.”

“She's magnificent," Radius said, smiling proudly as he vaulted the steps and followed Aphrodite."I can think of a lot of m words that she could be. Magnificent isn't one of them," Stark grumbled."Mental and mean pop into my head," I said."Manure pops into mine," Stark said."Manure?""I think she's full of shot, but it's too many words and doesn't start with an m, so that's as close as I could get," he said.”

“Let me guess. Stark's another guy, isn't he?”