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All that smoldering intensity wrapped up in a delicious, completely forbidden package? That’s an altar I could worship at.
Tall, pale, dangerous, with thick wavy black hair and disarming eyes the color of molten amber. He took my breath away in that this-guy-is-bad-news-guard-your-virtue kind of way.
“Apparently, your milkshake brings all the supernatural boys to the yard, Sunday. But which one gets the cherry?”
“Jackass,” Moira called to his retreating back. Then she sighed and added, “But goddess, is he pretty.”
“Wolf, Viking, and Vamp. You’re going to be in a sandwich with the whole sexy trifecta.”
Well, newsflash, Fang Boy, I kissed Alek and let him see my boobs.
I may be a prince, but I was far from a gentleman.
“God give me strength to deal with you, Sunday Fallon.”
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.” “Say I can be yours.”
“You certainly have earned your title of brat prince, haven’t you? I’ve been a vampire longer than you’ve existed. Before you were a twitch in your father’s pants, I was roaming this earth with the power to raze entire towns to the ground. Don’t test me, lad.
Iniquity. Our room. Sunset. - N
But I’d resigned myself to the fact that no matter what vows I’d made, I was also a man, and God made us sinners.
