DEDICATED TO YOU:
I cannot believe you and I have come so far. Your book is not a goodbye, however-just another beginning.
But you're used to that...
Stichwörter: dedication lover-mine
You've always had me.. and my heart. My soul. Everything. I wish it hasn't taken this long for me to man up. That family of mine..nearly killed me. And not just thanks to that Honor Guard of theirs.
J.R. WardStichwörter: qhuinn-and-blay lover-at-last
With a quick jerk, Qhuinn wrapped his arms around the single most important person in his life. It was not Layla, although he felt a pang at that denial. It was not John, or his king. It wasn't the brothers. This male was the reason for everything.
J.R. WardStichwörter: black-dagger-brotherhood qhuinn blaylock qhuinn-and-blay lover-at-last
Qhuinn looked at each of the hoods again. How ironic, he thought. Nearly two years ago, an Honor Guard of black robes had been sent to him to make sure he knew his family didn't want him. And now, here these males were, come to draw him into a different kind of fold-- that was every bit as strong as that of blood.
J.R. WardStichwörter: qhuinn full-circle
I think that's Justin Bieber.
Standing in front of a line up of Lay's potato chips, Qhuinn looked overhead to the speaker inset into the ceiling tiles. Yup, I'm right, and I hate that I know that.
Next to him John Matthew signed, How do you know?
The little shit is everywhere.
I swear, that kid is proof the Antichrist is coming.
Maybe it's already here.
Would explain Miley Cyrus.
Love, after all, was universal. Qhuinn closed his fist up tight, and knew he would never, ever take that ring off. “Always,” Blay murmured. “Because family is an always kind of thing.
J.R. WardStichwörter: qhuinn-and-blay
Shit. With Qhuinn looking at him like that, he couldn’t remember his own name. Blaysox? Blacklock? Blabberfox? Who the fuck knew…
J.R. WardStichwörter: blay-qhuinn
Scrambling through the drifts, Blay rushed over and landed on his knees. Qhuinn was sprawled on the ground, his long, heavy legs stretched out, his upper body in John’s lap.
The male just stared at him with those mismatched eyes, unmoving, unspeaking.
“Is he paralyzed?” Blay demanded, looking over at John.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Qhuinn replied dryly.
I think he’s got a concussion, John signed.
“I do not—”
He went flying off the hood of his car and hit this tree—
“I mostly missed the tree—”
And I’ve had to hold him down ever since.
“Which is pissing me off—
Stichwörter: blay-qhuinn-john-humour
Listen, you mind if I take a T.O. and check in for a sec,” he interjected.
V’s diamond eyes narrowed. “With who?”
Right on cue, John jumped in, asking about the Hummer and its rehab plan—like somebody waving a torch in front of a T. rex to redirect it. As V started talking about the SUV’s future as lawn sculpture, Qhuinn nearly blew a kiss at his buddy.
Stichwörter: qhuinn-john-vishous
Qhuinn dived into the plane, pulled himself into the pilot’s seat, and tried to make sense of all the…fucking hell, there were a lot of dials. The only saving grace he had was that he’d—
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
—watched enough movies to know that the lever with the grip was the gas and the bow tie–shaped wheel was the thing you pulled up to go up, and pushed down to go down.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he stayed in a tuck position as much as he could.
Stichwörter: qhuinn
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