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Everyone in this book is a bisexual slut. So this goes out to all the bisexual sluts.
“Uh-oh, leather daddy’s mad. As fun as you make getting torn apart look in the ring, I think we’ll take a rain check.”
“Call Meg to check on her if you must, but stay out of my trailer, or I’ll be gifting her a pair of still-pulsating clown hearts.” “Try our cocks instead. Meg will like that better. Don’t want to kick off your relationship with her thinking you’re a shitty gift giver.”
I want to find you in my bed when I get back. Do that for me, and I’ll reward you like the good fucking girl you are. –Daemon P.S. Don’t let the clowns in.
DONT. LET. THE. CLOWNS. IN. OMFG
Meg: What’s his problem with you guys anyway? Raff: He doesn’t like that we can read him like a book, so he keeps his guard up. Riff: And he doesn’t like clowns.
Seducing the devil was objectively a bad idea, no matter how you turned it,
"Come on, Little Demon. Don't you ever dream about the monsters under the bed crawling out to fuck you stupid?”
“You had us at the murdering bad guys bit. Oh, and funnel cake. We love funnel cake.”
Don’t tell me murder doesn’t make you hungry for a deep-fried Twinkie?”
Daemon’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as they slid over the wrapping paper. “Blue’s Clues?” he asked, reading the logo on the paper. Raff shrugged. “It was one of the few options the store carried, and it had a dog on it, so we figured it was perfect. Go on. Open it.”
GOLD STAR.
