“The arm of flesh will fail you," Bridie's grandmother had been fond of reminding her, especially after she'd started dating, bringing home this one and that one, going on and on about them. "Love with all your heart, . . . but don't look to anybody but the Lord to fill up your empty spots. There's never been a man born . . . who can do that, and I don't care if he's the finest thing since store-bought pickles.”

“...I know I was wrong. If i could go back and do it over, I would. I wish I could undo it all."I know that." Grandma reached over and put a twisted hand on hers. "'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.' Isaiah one eighteen."I've done terrible things."Don't make no difference. You can't out-sin the cross.”

“But if it was going to end, she wondered, feeling confusion starting to fog her mind, why had he kissed her?”

“He crossed toward me, a grin curving his mouth-then he stopped. "Should I get the other blade?"I looked at the sword in my hand. "I'm waiting for the Rake."He raised a brow. "The Rake?"Oh, right, we'd never talked about him. "He's a ghost. Your ancestor. The Bennett you're named after.""What?" Bennett laughed in surprise. "Here? When did he show up?""Um...a couple days after you brought me here from San Francisco.""Why didn't you tell me?""He's private. And you're both Bennetts. It'd be like...I don't know. Traveling back in time and meeting yourself.""And you call him 'the Rake'?""Well, he's all swagger and devilish charm," I explained."In that case, how can you tell us apart?”

“Luna was remote and ladylike. The only time anyone had ever seen Luna angry was when someone referred to her as 'African-American'."I'm an American," she had snapped, whirling on the offender. "I've never even been to Africa. I was born in California, my father was a major in the Marine Corps, and I'm not a hyphenated anything. I have a black heritage, but I also have a white one." She had held out one slim arm and studied the color of it. "Looks to me like I'm brown. We're all just different shades of brown,so don't try to set me apart.”

“You were happy last night. This morning is a different story.""You think I have a hangover. I don't. Well a little headache, but not much. Just let this be a warning to you if you keep me from sleeping again tonight.""I kept you from sleeping? I kept you from sleeping?" he repeated incredulously. "You are the same woman who shook me out of a sound sleep at two a.m. yesterday morning, aren't you?""I didn't shake you. I kind of bounced on you, but I didn't shake you.""Bounced," he repeated."You had a hard-on. I couldn't let it go to waste, could I?""You could have woke me up before you started not to let it go to waste.""Look," she said exasperated, "If you don't want used, don't lie on your back with it sticking up like that. If that isn't an invitation, I don't know what is.""I was asleep. It does that on its own." It was doing it on its own right know, as a matter of fact. It poked her in the stomach.She looked down... and smiled. It was a smile that made his testicles draw up in fear.With a sniff, she turned her back on him and ignored him as she finished showering."Hey!" he said, to get her attention. Alarm was in his tone. "You aren't going to let this one go to waste are you?”

“Milla was always aware, on the dimmest edge of her consciousness that Diaz constantly watched her.She also knew that he was a man who never gave up, who never lost sight of his goal. Exactly what his goal was wasn’t always clear to her, but she had no doubt he was perfectly clear in his own mind what he wanted.He wanted her. She knew it, and yet she couldn’t imagine how they could ever be together again. The rift between them, to her, was final and absolute. He’d betrayed her in the most wounding way possible, and forgiveness evidently wasn’t her strong suit. She had found that grudges weren’t heavy at all; she could carry them for a very long time.Diaz wasn’t taking care of her out of the goodness of his heart. He was taking care of her the way a wolf cared for its wounded mate.”