“A smile crept to her lips. “What does the ‘F’ stand for?” she asked. He blinked a moment in confusion, and then recalled the nameplate on his desk: Hon. F. Darcy. “What do you think it stands for?” he countered. “Do you really have any doubt what I think it stands for?” she said, smirking. “Contrary to popular belief, my mother did not name me F*cker. It’s Fitzwilliam.”

“DO WHAT YOUR HEART tells you to do, and hope for the best had been Lou’s advice. Elizabeth found it ironic that her heart was telling her to murder Caroline Bingley and dispose of the body in the San Francisco Bay. “No, those floatation devices on her chest will keep her from sinking,” she murmured to herself as she steered her car toward Darcy’s place. “Better to give her the dirt nap.” Homicidal fantasies had filled her mind for the past twenty-four hours.”

“So what are you doing next Friday night?""What have you got in mind?""We could try hitting each other with cars," she suggested cheerfully."Did that last weekend with Jase," he said with mock regret."Go to the zoo and throw ourselves to the lions?" she fired back quickly, desperate to keep him focused on her rather than his caved-in chest. "The Romans sort of wore that one out. Got anything original?" "I'll think of something," she warned him."Can't wait!”

“What are you doing?'Helen put her hand over his to stop him from shifting. 'I'm going inside to talk to your dad. I don't want him to feel like he can't trust me with his daughter.''Lucas, I swear to whatever god you think is holy that I will get out of this car and walk to school if you go inside and talk to my dad.'Lucas smiled and shifted back into first, driving away from her house. 'Who told you the gods were holy?”

“Why’d you want to have sex with me? To have a f*cking adventure? What was I supposed to be? Your one-night-f*cking stand? I’m every woman’s adventure, damn you, and I don’t want to be yours. I want to be your f*cking REAL. You get that? If I f*ck you, I want you to belong to me. To be mine. I want you to give yourself to me—not Riptide!”

“My father felt it was his duty to continue to treat animals long after he stopped getting paid. He couldn't stand by and watch a horse colic or a cow labor with a breech calf even though it meant personal ruin. The parallel is undeniable. There is no question I am the only thing standing between these animals and the business practices of August and Uncle Al, and what my father would do - what my father would want me to do - is look after them, and I am filled with that absolute and unwavering conviction. No matter what I did last night, I cannot leave these animals. I am their shepherd, their protector. And it's more than a duty. It's a covenant with my father.”

“Kyle’s shrill voice interrupted their moment. “Figured you two would turn this into a scout meeting. Will you get your asses up here? People are waiting. I mean Beckett here has maybe a fewhours before he’s bent over a metal toilet getting it up the ass from aguy named Bubba. Do you want him to have fun now or not?”The streetlight illuminated Beckett as he appeared next to Kyle. “Why would I be the bitch? I don’t think that’s a fair f*cking assumption.”Kyle refused to look at him and crossed her arms. “Of course you’d be the bitch. You have dimples. Bitches have dimples. And I bet your ass is soft like two pillows. Bubba’s going to love bouncing off of you.”Beckett stormed away, dragging Kyle with him. “I’ll be the f*cker,” he told her. “Not the f*ckee. The f*cker.”“Fine, a$$hole, you’re the f*cker,” Kyle’s voice faded away as they returned to the party.”