No matter how you disguise this trite bullshit, it’s my life, Jeff. Penned in an awkward manner. It’s things I didn’t want to see in black-and-white print. You’re lucky after three hundred years that I’ve mellowed. In my human days, I’d have slit your throat, pulled your tongue through the opening, and left you tied to a tree for the wolves to eat. (Rafael)

Auteur: Sherrilyn Kenyon