Christine Warren

It called to him, a sweet heady beacon of femininity, fertility, and fuckability. His three favorite f-words.

Fresh, sweet honeysuckle. Ripe and rich and ready to be fucked--PLUCKED, he corrected himself, ready to be plucked.

There has always been Darkness, just as there has always been Light. Neither can ever be completely destroyed, only driven away or contained, because neither can exist without the other. Without Darkness, there is no Light, and vice versa.

The wars not over, but this battle is. It’s time to pick up the pieces and move forward.

Knox emerged into the human world aware of two things - that the woman beneath him must be protected, and that the man clutched in his large, claw-tipped hands needed to die. It was just a matter of how and how soon. He would personally prefer bloody and right now, but something urged him to caution.

The Gould viewed female Wardens in the same light as demonic minions and the Ebola virus -- such things might exist in the world, but virtue and good hygiene would probably be enough to keep them at bay.

Wynn really hoped the squeal that followed her announcement came from Ella, because if Kees had made that sound, she feared for his testicles.

A Guardian lover is the last thing you need, Wynn Myfanwy, she told herself sternly. Too bad it was the very first thing she wanted.

He wanted to claim her, to possess her and be possessed, to sink into her soul until neither of them could tell their own being from the other.

I do not doubt your intellectual or spiritual equality with me, mate. When I saw you belong to me, it is only because I belong so utterly to you, as well.

Why do you cry?""I almost lost you. . . ""You cannot lose me, not when you are part of me. . . You cannot lose has become part of you.

Wherever his gaze touched her, she felt as if flames licked at her skin, and the thought of what it might do to her to feel his tongue follow suit had her eyes drifting shut on a moan. Spar chuckled softly and leaned closer until his breath teased the rim of her ear. "I would pay more than a penny for those thoughts, little human, were I not filled with such vivid imaginings of my own.

My name is Spar. I am neither called Rocky nor made of rock. I am a Guardian, one of those warriors who were summoned to battle against the Seven demons of the Darkness and to prevent their possible return to this human plane of existence. I consider the others of my kind to be my brothers.

Committing suicide essentially said to friends and loved ones and the world at large that you were the only thing that mattered, that your problems were hopeless that you deserved to escape from them and to hell with everyone else. Suicide was nothing more than a way to look in the eye of the people who loved you and say, "My pain is paramount and I want it to end. The pain you will feel when I am gone, and the guilt you will experience at not having been able to stop me, do not matter to me. I am willing for you to suffer for the rest of your life so that I can take the easy way out of mine.

Still shuddering, he collapsed atop her on a long, strangled groan. It sounded as if someone had just wrung out his soul. Ella knew precisely how he felt.

Only in porn did people appear to need sex as badly as she needed it right that minute.

She could sense the desire pouring off the man in front of her, and to be wanted so obviously, so fiercely, went to her head like moonshine. He made her feel like a goddess. Provided goddesses got this horny.