“Now, though, I must rent a movie.""You're going to do that?""Of course. I'm a werewolf, not a cretin. We have Blockbuster cards."It blew my mind. Werewolfs rented DVDs. At my local Blockbuster.”

“I'm a werewolf, not a cretin. We have Blockbuster cards.”

“I thrust Sophie into a corner, blocking her with my body. She panted and snagged her lower lip in her teeth. “This is not my life,” she insisted.I looked at her solemnly. “I’m afraid it is. But it doesn’t have to be for long. Let’s just get through this. Then things go back to normal for you.”“Like they keep going back to normal for you?” Sophie hissed. “Ghost of your mother, psycho ex-best friend, company agent dating your dad, psychic vampire ex-boyfriend, werewolf current boyfriend—by the way, I can’t blame you for that one,” she confessed, eyes round as she mouthed the word whoa before continuing with her list, “Trip to the asylum, attempts against your life, vigilante father…”“Hey, the last ones are brand new. And the vigilante father thing? He’ll revert.”“Anyhow, I’m not so keen on your concept of normal.” I caught her staring at me.”

“Just because you're damaged doesn't mean you must damage others. You have choices. We all make them every day.”

“Do you want to hurt yourself?''No. I'm trying to get a grip. Have a more normal life.' Scribble, scribble.'The number of suicides in the area has recently escalated,' she commented.'The train track suicides. Yes, I know. And yet, here I am. Thrilled to be in counseling. Weren't we supposed to be focusing on a healthy expression of my grief?'Scribble. 'You seem disoriented. Have you been drinking?''I have too few brain cells naturally to waste any on a temporary buzz.'Scribble. 'Drugs?''Just write See Above-the same philosophy applies. Look, I had a really lousy lunch. Food poisoning of epic proportions. Its messed me up.''I'd like to get a urine sample.''Give me your coffee cup.'Scribble, scribble, scribble.”

“I sighed, sinking back, head filling with pleasant images; pictures Pietr floated to the surface. Kisses scorched along my face and neck. "Pietr...."There was a growl, and I felt fingers at the waistband of my jeans. The button opened and a hand traced along the top of my underpants."No," I said. The kissing resumed, harder. "Jessica." The word rumbled in someone's throat. Not Pietr's. To him, I was Jess."No," I insisted, trying to pry my eyes open. Something was wrong....Not Pietr... I pushed at the chest above me, my eyelids stinging as I willed them apart."Relax..." a voice said, lips dragging along the cornerof my jaw, filling my head with honey, sticky and sweet....”

“Max,' I said, looking up at him, 'I love the Russian heritage you guys are so willing to share, but I'm not so thrilled with the French.''What?' His brows lowered. 'We're not French.''Great. So the next time you feel the need to kiss me, keep your tongue out of my mouth!”