"He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount."
- Thea Harrison
"Her music ran through him with electric energy, more joyous than anything he could remember and more painful than silver."
"With her face tilted up to his, the subtle edge of moonlight touched along the edge of one high cheekbone, the tilted edge of one eye, and those beautiful, enticing lips. Obeying an impulse he couldn’..."
"Your music hurts, the way sunshine hurts when you’ve existed for a long time in darkness."
"He cupped her head with both hands. “You’re full of your own kind of magic, and it’s much more rare and beautiful than all the other spells around you. They are commonplace. You are unique."
"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.” “Unfortunately,” he said as gently as he knew how, “it would appear so."
"Just when I was coping with the idea that I’d necked with a werewolf,” she muttered. “Just when I was beginning to flirt with the idea of possibly… possibly inviting sex with a werewolf. I’m trying to..."
"Giving her a slow, coaxing smile that turned the heat in the room up by a thousand degrees, he stroked her lips with the balls of his thumbs as he murmured, “Can we get back to talking about possibly ..."
"Lifting his head, he whispered against her wet, throbbing lips, “Too much?” Wasn’t that sweet, Consider even. But oh, hell no. She gasped, “Not enough."
"I want to do everything to you, all at once,” he muttered. “I want to stroke you, fuck you, hold you down, lift you up, pin you, take you. I want you to take me. Lord and Lady, Sophie, I don’t know th..."