Kerrelyn Sparks · 371 pages
Rating: (30.8K votes)
“Look, Laszlo. I'll have the dentist with me, and I don't want to alarm her any more than necessary. So take Vanna out of the backseat and stick her in the trunk."
Shanna halted. Her mouth dropped open. Her throat seized up, making it hard to breathe.
I don't care how much crap you have in the trunk. We're not driving around with a naked body in the car."
Oh no! She gasped for air. He was a hit man.”
“Gregori strutted toward the door. "I'm too sexy for my cape, too sexy for my fangs. Too sexy." He whirled in a circle, then struck a disco pose with a hand pointing at the ceiling. "Too sexy!" He left with a flourish of his cape.”
“Gregori jolted back. "Snap! You couldn't control one measly mortal?"
Roman clenched his fists. "No."
Gregori slapped a hand against his brow. "Snap!"
"Why the hell are you snapping? Are you a turtle?" It was times like this that firing Gregori
seemed to be the wise choice.”
“I don't want to hurt anyone" Laszlo fiddled with a button on his tux jacket. "Can't we convince the CIA that some of us are peaceful?"
"we'll have to try" Angus folded his arms across his broad chest. "And if they doona believe we're peaceful, then we'll have to kill the bastards."
Roman frowned, somehow their Highlander logic escaped him.”
“Roman might have survived the Great Vampire War of 1710, but he was about to face an even worse terror.
A mortal female in full rage.”
“This is not a good time, Miss Implant." Roman felt Jean-Luc jabbing him in the back with his walking stick. "Uh, Porky. No, I mean--" Damn, what the hell was her name?”
“She's easy to use." Laszlo pointed at the doll's neck. "You remove the clamp, insert the small funnel, select two quarts of your favorite blood from Romatech Industries, and fill her up."
I see. Does she light up when she's running low?"
Laszlo frowned. "I suppose I could put in an indicator light-”
“Oh yeah. It would be terrible for you to have only one working fang. Your friends might want to call you Lefty”
“Shanna, sweet Shanna. How can I tell you what you mean to me? When I saw you at the ball it was as if my heart started beating again. You lit up the room, bright in an ocean of black and white. And I thought- my life has been nothing but a dark, endless night. Then you came out like a rainbow and filled my black soul with color.”
“She smiled. "You're looking hot, dude."
Gregori strutted toward the door. "I'm too sexy for my cape, too sexy for my fangs. Too sexy." He whirled in a circle, then struck a disco pose with a hand pointing at the ceiling. "Too sexy!" He left with a flourish of his cape.
Shanna grinned. "I think he enjoys being a vampire.”
“Roman pressed the handkerchief against the gaping hole where his right fang should be. "Thit."
"You could use your own healing powers to seal the vein shut," Laszlo suggested.
"It would be clothed permanently. I'd be a one-thided eater for all eternity." Roman removed the bloody handkerchief from his mouth and reinserted his fang into the whole.
"Sir, I suggest you go to a dentist." Laszlo picked up the fang and offered it to Roman. "I've heard they can put a lost tooth back."
"Oh, right." Gregori snorted. "What's he supposed to do, waltz into a dental office and say, 'Excuse me, I'm a vampire and I lost a fang in the neck of a sex toy.' They're not going to be line up to help him.”
“The little weasel ripped all the buttons off my couch.
Ivan Petrovsky, pg 350”
“Oh my God, she’d kissed him! She’d stuck her tongue inside a creature from hell. Oh jeez, this would sound great in confession. Say two Hail Marys and avoid further contact with the spawn of the devil.”
“No more thoughts about his mouth and which of her body parts would fit inside. No. None of that. He'd think about something completely different. Like her mouth and which of his body parts would fit inside.”
“She wiggled until her nose and mouth found a pocket of air. After a few deep breaths, she realized her precious pocket of air was the crevice between his legs. Wonderful. She was doing heavy breathing on his crotch.”
“The first time you tried to save people, you were certain of victory?"
"Yes. In my pride, I knew I could not fail."
"Then, in your mind, you were risking nothing. Are you certain of victory tonight?"
Roman stared into the darkness of the booth. "No, I am not."
"Then why are you risking your life?"
Tears filled his eyes. "I cannot bear for them to risk their own. I...love them."
The priest took a deep breath. "Then you have your answer. You do this not out of pride, but out of love. And since love comes from the Father, He has not abandoned you."
Roman scoffed."You do not understand the magnitude of my sins."
"Perhaps you do not understand the magnitude of God's forgiveness.”
“why did he have a small army of kilted Highlanders? Where on earth did a person acquire such an army? Did he place an ad in the paper—Wanted: small army of kilted Highlanders?”
“I'm too sexy for my cape, too sexy for my fangs. Too sexy”
“Can't we convince the CIA that some of us are peaceful?"
"We'll have to try." Angus folded his arms across his broad chest. "And if they doona believe we're peaceful, then we'll have to kill the bastards."
"Aye." Ian nodded.
Roman frowned. Somehow, their Highlander logic escaped him.”
“Sir!” Laszlo’s voice rose an octave. He twirled a button with his fingers. “There isn’t enough time for—for two treatments. You must decide between your—your tooth or your…” With a grimace, he glanced at Roman’s swollen jeans. My fang or my yang? The latter strained against his zipper, as if it wanted to leap out and shoot its mouth off. Pick me, pick me!”
“Pascal told only half the story. He said man was a thinking reed. What man is, is a thinking reed and a walking genital.”
“I was seeking comic originality, and fame fell on me as a by-product. The course was more plodding than heroic: I did not strive valiantly against doubters but took incremental steps studded with a few intuitive leaps.”
“Forgive me. It's true. I wander. I wander in my heart and my thoughts. Such is the curse of any emigrant, to abandon one's home and never find another, to always flounder in a sea of remorse.”
“If you believe it, Khaldun had said, I could never convince you otherwise. If you do not, nothing I tell you could sway you. I am the one who should be asking you: Is it the truth? No,”
“John had once said to me, in a complaining tone, that Father had taught us to be afraid of no man except him. And it was true. Father always insisted that we think for ourselves in every way, except when we disagreed with him, and that we hold ourselves independent of every man’s will, except his. He wanted us simultaneously to be independent and yet to serve him. Father was to be our Abraham; we were to be his little Isaacs. We were supposed to know ahead of time, however, the happy outcome of the story—we were supposed to know that it was a story, not about us and our willingness to lie on a rock on Mount Moriah and be sacrificed under his knife, but about our father and his willingness to obey his terrible God.”
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