“One more salt to try," Kellan said, reaching into the box. He brought a jar of black, flaky crystals up to the light. "Black diamond finishing salt. Extremely rare and too bold for those with meek palates. But, for a true connoisseur, the flavor is incomparable." He lowered her head and torso to the ground and pushed her sweater up to expose her stomach and ribs. "I want to sample it on your skin.”

“The ferocity of her passion was what he'd been waiting for night after torturous night. He wanted her to hunger the way he hungered. To need like he needed.”

“She was partial to the tie. Not too long ago he did unspeakable things to her with that tie.”

“You make velocity look good.”

“Images cluttered the pages, but one tattoo set her nerves on edge; inky black eyes surrounded by wings likes shadows coalescing. Mine. The thought, the need, the reaction was overpowering. Leslie looked up. "This one." she said. "I need this one.But the image is more than just tempting art, and it draws her into a world of shadows and desire- into the world of Faerie.”

“He pulled something out of his pocket and tried to stick it in her arm. A needle. He'd offered her hope, but then he was trying to hurt her. Poison. She pushed him away. "That wasn't nice.”

“He held her gaze as he lowered his head toward her. He didn't kiss her though--just leaned kissably close and asked, "Will you let me take you in my arms... for a dance, Leslie?”