“Never in my life had I been more frustrated. Go figure it wouldn't be with a human but a freaking alien. At least I now knew that the male species were asses no matter what planet they hailed from.”
“You're not going to answer me?" Or do I need to repeat myself for a third time? It's okay. I like to hear myself talk.”
“Shit. Next I’ll hold her hand and start talking about butterflies and rainbows. Fuck me.”
“Are you done acting like a psychotic, cracked-out Muppet baby?" he asked, and I could tell by the way his fingers spasmed around my wrists, he really wanted to shake me.
"Or do you need a couple more moments to return to sanity? I have all day. And you actually feel kind of good under me, so take your time.”
“At least I now knew that the male species were asses no matter what planet they hailed from.”
“I smiled then—a big, toothy idiotic smile— and Serena didn't see it. Her eyes were closed, which was good, because I was turning into one big vagina.”
“That´s an alien. I´m an alien. We´re aliens. Aliens everywhere, acutally, which is why we have to leave. I´m sure someone called the police by now.”
“I stared at him in disbelief and sputtered, "You can't - Get off!"
One single brown arched up. "I can't get off? Oh, I most definitely can get of.”
“Oh, shimmer down, Hunter. You're too testy. How many times have I've told you that you need to chill out, take a vacay. Disney World is really fun this time of the year. you should check it out.”
“Somehow, in the relatively short time I’d known Serena, she had wiggled her way into my cold body. She was my light, my warmth, and I wasn’t ready to let her go.”
“It wasn’t about the age-old battle of Arum versus Luxen. I wasn’t fighting to feed or to work off aggression. I wasn’t fighting because I was told or was obligated.
I was fighting for Serena.
She meant everything to me.
Knowing that, fully understanding what that mean, I was on a motherfucking warpath.”
“Your arrogance is rooted in stupidity.”
“Throughout our lives, no one could figure out how we were so close, but when friendships begin with cupcakes—chocolate, at that—no truer bond develops.”
“Then in one fluid, unbelievably quick motion, he rolled off and stood. Jesus, the guy was part alien, part human, and part ninja.”
“Well, the good guys really weren't typical. They really weren't the good guys at all, but if I discovered anything, there was no such thing as white and black. There was a lot of gray in the middle.”
“Okay." I held up my hands in surrender. "I just don't understand this, Mel. Don't bitch-slap the table. It's not its fault.”
“Hunter's stomach was perfection—each taut muscle tight and totally lickable. Not that I'd ever licked a man's stomach before, but now I got why someone would want to. I was in six-pack heaven.”
“We stared at each other for several moments, neither of us speaking or moving, and then I was in front of her, pulling her to my chest, breathing in her scent as I went down on my knees, bring her with me. Her arms went around me and she held on just as tightly as I held her. It was then when I realized I was still in my true form. She was light against my darkness.
Serena hadn't backed away or hesitated. She accepted me, all of me. She always had.”
“Well, wrap me up and call me a Christmas baby. Hunter with a female – a human female.”
“This is not your problem.”
“You are my problem.”
Now she stared at me like I asked to hump her leg. Perhaps I was saying the wrong things and should shut the fuck up.”
“It was almost cute, I thought, except I don't do cute. But I wanted to do her.”
“If I continued, I would kill her. Stopping would be going against my nature. Arum were killers. And I didn't hide from what I truly was, even if I was the DOD's bitch boy.”
“Even with all the crazy stuff happening recently, beneath the sorrow and the anger, I was still a red-blooded, twenty-three-year-old woman sitting in front of a man, who may not be a hundred precent human but had to have caused a panty-dropping crisis across the universe.”
“I smacked my hand across my mouth, muffling my scream. I wasn't sure what to be more freaked out about in this whole fucked-up situation-that light bulb wanted to kill me? or that he was a light bulb? or that Hunter could apparently shadow poof and put his hand inside someone? The options were limitless”
“Luc blinked innocently. That little fuck. "I gave you a piece of opal and a Luxen to nom-nom on.”
“Maybe I just needed to fuck her out of my system.
That sounded like the best plan ever.”
“Hunter smirked. "Nice to see you, too, Paris."
Paris? All I could think of was Orlando Bloom and Brad Pitt.”
“And I didn't want you to go to Colorado because I don't want you to get hurt. It is dangerous, and I...I don't like the thought of that. Shit. Next I'll hold her hand and start talking about butterflies and rainbows. Fuck me.”
“You feel perfect,” Hunter grunted, slamming up and wringing a strangled moan from me. “You are perfect for me, only me.”
“You’re about to get a feisty little foot up your ass,” I spat back.”
“courage was not the absence of fear, but the ability to walk into unknown territory despite it.”
“until years later when Captain Montrose canvassed the old crime”
“Eko brushed a tear from her eye, and Immo jeered at her, but father held up a hand. "Never mock a tender heart," he said.”
“How dare you belittle me this way?'
'What the hell are you talking about?'
'I have never, not even once in my life, given my love to another man. And you throw it back in my face like a trifle.'
'You misunderstand me. It is because I value your love so highly that I do not accept it.'
'You don't accept it because you don't want to accept it. You're mired in misplaced guilt and self-pity.”
“«Ho udito bene?» chiese il professor Obnubile. «Un popolo industrioso come il vostro è impegnato in così tante guerre?» «Certo», rispose l’interprete. «Sono guerre industriali. I popoli che non hanno né commercio né industrie non sono costretti a fare la guerra, mentre per un popolo industrioso una politica di conquiste è indispensabile. Il numero delle nostre guerre aumenta necessariamente con l’attività produttiva. Quando una delle industrie non trova da smerciare i suoi prodotti, deve iniziare una guerra per aprirsi nuovi sbocchi. Quest’anno abbiamo avuto una guerra per il carbone, una per il rame, una per il cotone. Nella Terza Zelanda abbiamo ucciso i due terzi degli abitanti allo scopo di costringere gli altri ad acquistare i nostri ombrelli e le nostre bretelle.»”
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