“Was he serious? Why would she be meant for a guy from Hell? If there was such a thing as destiny, she was supposed to find a quiet, smart guy, one who wasn't over six feet tall, with midnight hair and a face she couldn't stop staring at. He'd be Russian Orthodox. Or Episcopalian. He might even be Jewish. But he wouldn't be from Hell.”

“She wasn't there. He wouldn't have had to look too closely. She stood out from others like an angel in hell or a rose in a sewer.”

“He won every game, yet she hardly noticed. As long as she hit the ball, it resulted in shameless bragging. When she missed - well, even the fires of Hell couldn't compare to the rage that burst from her mouth. He couldn't remember a time when he'd laugh so hard.”

“Where the hell was she? Grant knew he'd go mad if he asked himself the question one more time.Where the hell was she?From the lookout deck of his lighthouse he could see for miles. But he couldn't see Gennie.The wind slapped at his face as he stared out to sea and wondered what in God's name he was going to do.Forget her? He might occasionally forget to eat or to sleep,but he couldn't forget Gennie. Unfortunately, his memory was just as clear on the last ten minutes they had been together. How could he have been such a fool! Oh,it was easy,Grant thought in disgust.He'd had lots of practice.”

“She sighed as he left, wondering why it was becoming so difficult to tell the good guys from the bad guys.”

“I guess she's just nuts,' he said. 'And if she's nuts, a guy's got to do nuts things. You don't think you could say the hell with her?”