Dearest Ivie (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #15.5)

by J.R. Ward

“Yeah, except here’s the thing.” She put her hands up. “Ya dead, either way. So it’s a win/win. You get eternal life with calorie-free M&M’s and fettuccini Alfredo—or, you’re worm food with no consciousness so you won’t know and won’t care. Might as well assume the best because it’s less likely to drive you crazy with a depressing distraction while you’re whooping it up on this side, right?”

“I draw the line at haggis. I mean, you might as well stuff a bagpipe with compost and call it dinner.”

“I love you, Ivie. I really do. And if dying is what I have to do to deserve you, all I can say is, my life for knowing you is a bargain I’d pick every time.

The reality is that the dying are still living just as everyone who is living is in the process of dying.