Bleeding Hearts

I read a lot. I love books. If they came in a bottle, I'd be a drunk too.

Solange and all her irritating brothers could get themselves kiled without me. I deserved to be part of their clandestine plans. I'd earned it. And I was sure they'd need a human touch at some point. And if they asked Hunter to help instead of me, I'd stake every last one of them myself. Mom says jealousy is unattractive. So's a broken nose. I'm just saying.

Her eyes went so wide they nearly bulged. It was probably wrong of me to find that amusing. Or to want to take a photo of Nicholas with his fangs out and wearing a black cape lined with red satin and then hang it over my pillow in a heart-shaped frame.

Never mind that I totally knew more about fighting vampires than my peace-loving parents. Or that Logan's girlfriend, Isabeau, had given us two full-grown, trained Rottweilers to protect us, plus the Drakes sent their human bodyguards by a couple of times a night. I named them Van Helsing and Gandhi. The dogs, not the bodyguards." "Chapter 1 Lucy, page 15

I paused, folding the top corner of the page to keep my place. My dad used to wince every time he saw me do that, but I think books should be loved to pieces. They should be as worn and soft as flannel." "Chapter 2 Christabel, page 24

I couldn't convince her that if I had a book with me, I wasn't lonely.

Where's Quinn?' "He went around the other side." Connor replied. Stealth mode." A war whoop and a mocking laugh belied that comment. Hunter sighed. 'He's across the street, being a lunatic, you mean.' "That's stealth mode for him.

The one time I tried to get her to watch Pride and Prejudice, she hadn’t been able to sit still. Granted, it was the six-hour version, but come on. What’s not to love?

That's good," Hunter said, panting. "Keep grinning at your attacker like that and they'll think you're way creepy. And mental." I grinned wider. "I totally love this. Who can I punch next?

Stop hiding condoms in my stuff. It's like some twisted Easter egg hunt in there.

I would never believe that I was better off without the Drakes and they without me. Growing up, I’d seen them more often than my own grandparents. They were part of my landscape. And if that particular landscape suddenly included earthquakes and volcanoes and mudslides, then too bad; I already built a house there and dug the well and planted crops. It was an analogy my parents had to understand. They were homesteaders; they knew that once you found your home, you dug your roots. Period.

I love you, too,' he whispered, one corner of his mouth lifting into a smile. I grinned back, then kissed him until I felt light-headed and breathless.

Or to want to take a photo of Nicholas with his fangs out and wearing a black cape lined with red satin and then hang it over my pillow in a heart-shaped frame.