“Even if he doesn’t eat, he knows the cookies. I’ll bet his mother stuffed him full as a kid. (Tory)Not really. My mom wasn’t the Betty Crocker kind. (Acheron)(Not unless it involved napalm or plagues.)”

“My mother wanted to be Betty Boop. Betty Boop was independent. Betty Boop was sexy. Betty Boop really had her shit together, you know?”

“Akri? Can I keep him? See, he good eating. Lots of fat on this one. (Simi)No, Simi. You can’t keep the baby. His mother would miss him. (Acheron)But he want to go home with the Simi. He said so. (Simi)No, Simi. (Acheron)No Simi, no food. Nag, nag, nag. (Simi)”

“I followed him down the hall and into his room. He closed the door and tossed my dirty clothes into his hamper. “Don’t do that! I’ll take them home and wash them,” I tried to grab for them but Caeden grabbed my hands instead. “It’s fine,” he kissed the side of my mouth while I squirmed in his grasp.“Caeden, your mom doesn’t need to clean my dirty clothes.”“It’s not a problem. Besides,” he said huskily in my ear, “my mom doesn’t do my laundry. I do my own, just like a big boy.”I laughed. “And you know what else?” his lips brushed my ear. “What?”“I even make my own bed.”

“You can be two things if you're a woman, Dolores. Betty Crocker or a floozy. Just remember your place - even if it kills you.”

“I’ll take him outside and beat him for making my girl cry. (Acheron)Really? (Kat)Absolutely. Forget medieval, I’ll break Atlantean on his ass, and you’ve seen what a ticked-off Atlantean god can do. Makes Hannibal Lecter look like a crybaby. (Acheron)”