More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Six foot four, two hundred and two pounds, twenty-three wins, zero draws, zero losses. Zero losses. This guy was freaking born for MMA.
"That would be hard," the first cop said, "seeing as Madison Kate Danvers was just murdered inside The Laughing Clown tonight."
"So... not going to be creating your own reverse harem out of your new living arrangements then?"
"Oh, for the record, Princess Danvers? You can't set your pubic hair on fire when you don't have any."
It wasn’t until I stood underneath an admittedly chilly stream of water that I even realized my father's gate code spelled KATE.
“If your message was that you time-traveled straight out of the fifties when it was socially acceptable for men to shame women for dressing in a way that flaunts their sexuality? Was that the message you were aiming for? If so, I got it… but I respectfully decline to accept it.”
“MK: one, shady fucker: nil,” Bree snickered under her breath as we left the cafeteria with our heads held high. “This is going to be so fun.”
"Careful, baby girl," Kody warned me, carefully setting me back on my feet but not removing his hands from my waist. "No matter how much I love seeing you fall for me, I'd rather if you didn't mess up that pretty face in the process."
"I just thought you might have things you want to know, you know? Now's a great time to ask." He shot me a winning grin. "Promise not to tell anyone that you willingly conversed for something other than threats and insults. I wouldn't risk your tough-girl image like that."
"You're a pianist?"
"Note to self: Drunk Madison Kate is less combative than sober Madison Kate."
"I take that statement back," he murmured. "Drunk Madison Kate is six million times more combative. Good to freaking know."
I needed to hit them harder, if only to make them hit me back. Make it easier for me to hold onto all my hate.
I'll cut his touch from your skin, then clean the wounds with my tongue.
"the sexual tension between you two just made me wet. Please tell me you're planning on riding him like your personal pony. Soon."
It was a shame they'd tried to screw me so hard a year ago because I might have just found my soulmates.
The blade itself was a lush, deep copper-red and the handle a brushed charcoal-gray.
"Variety is the spice of life, Steele. Why choose?"
"I find time loops fascinating," he murmured, confirming my suspicions about the masks being a deliberate nod to a romance novel.
