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393 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published February 19, 2005
"Wrath was six feet, six inches of pure terror dressed in leather. His hair was long and black, falling straight from a widow's peak. Wraparound sunglasses hid eyes that no one had ever seen revealed. Shoulders were twice the size of most males'. With a face that was both aristocratic and brutal, he looked like the king he was by birthright and the solider he'd become by destiny."
"He had her on the bed and under him in a flash of movement, and he pushed up her skirt and tore off her panties with vicious impatience. He didn't treat her blouse or bra any better. There would be time to savor later. Now was all about raw sex."
"God, everything about him radiated sex, from the strength in his body to the way he moved to the smell of his skin. He was like no man she'd ever come across before. And her body knew it just as clearly as her mind did."
"Your language is beautiful," she said.
"There are no words worthy of you."
"You're pathetic.'"
Tohr hissed. "And you've been dead for hundreds of years. You're just too mean to find a grave and lie down."
"Christ, I know I'm ugly," he snapped. "But don't fear me. I'm not a total savage."
"I'm happy to take you on, asshole," Butch said. "I'll probably end up losing, but I fight dirty, so I'll make you hurt while you kill me."
"Worship me, gentlemen." V lit a hand-rolled. Flipped the gold lighter shut. "And I might let you play with the buttons."
"Yeah." Rhage sighed. "All I want is one good female. But I guess I'll settle for quantity until I find her. Life just sucks, doesn't it?"
I decided to read the entire series...yes again!!!!
“You don't know this yet. But you are Mine”
“Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistable urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.”
”Wrath was six feet, six inches of pure terror dressed in leather. His hair was long and black, falling straight from a widow’s peak. Wraparound sunglasses hid eyes that no one had ever seen revealed. Shoulders were twice the size of most males’. With a face that was both aristocratic and brutal, he looked like the king he was by birthright and the soldier he’d become by destiny.”
Whatever he had, she wanted.
"I thought we'd try this again," he said.
His voice was low, a deep rumble in his solid chest. He had the sliver of an accent, but she couldn't place it.
"Who are you?" she breathed in a whisper.
"I'm here for you."