Wow," she breathed.
"I know, right? Hung like a horse."
"If you're really nice-and you live through this-I'll promise not to tell V."
"About my size."
She laughed a little, "No, that you assumed I'd look at you in any fashion other than professionally.
Mots clés jane vishous lover-reborn lassiter
I brought us all Big Macs,” he said happily. “I know you dig ’em, remember?” “What the…” Tohr tightened his grip on his shellan, just in case . . . well, shit, with the way things were going lately, anything could happen. “What are you doing here?” “It’s your lucky day, motherfucker.
J.R. WardHey, no offense, but do you mind if you put both your palms where I can see ’em?
J.R. WardMots clés lassiter
There was a soft chiming sound, which meant, tragedy of tragedies, the angel had just popped himself up onto the countertop. “So, what are we doing tonight? Wait, let me guess, sitting in morose silence. Or, no…you’re mixing it up. Brooding with soulful intensity, right? What a fucking wild child you are. Whoo. Hoo. Next thing you know, you’ll be opening for Slipknot.”
With a curse, Tohr stood up and went over to turn on the shower, hoping that if he refused to look at the loudmouth, Lassiter would get bored more quickly and move on to ruin someone else’s afternoon.
Mots clés black-dagger-brotherhood j-r-ward slipknot lover-avenged tohrment tohr lassiter
Without time,” the angel said, “you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity.”
“FYI, philosophy bores me.”
“Not philosophy. Reality. Time is what gives life significance.
We’re vampires,” he said. “Not fairies.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. You see that study your king hangs out in?”
“He’s nearly blind.”
“Which explains why he hasn’t hanged himself in that pastel train wreck.”
“I thought you were bitching about the gloom-and-doom decorating?”
“I free-associate.
Mots clés lassiter
Lassiter skidded in from the billiards room, the fallen angel glowing from his black-and-blond hair and white eyes, all the way down to his shitkickers. Then again, maybe the illumination wasn’t his nature, but that gold he insisted on wearing.
He looked like a living, breathing jewelry tree.
“I’m here. Where’s my chauffeur hat?”
“Here, use mine,” Butch said, outing a B Sox cap and throwing it over. “It’ll help that hair of yours.”
The angel caught the thing on the fly and stared at the red S. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Do not tell me you’re a Yankees fan,” V drawled. “I’ll have to kill you, and frankly, tonight we need all the wingmen we’ve got.”
Lassiter tossed the cap back. Whistled. Looked casual.
“Are you serious?” Butch said. Like the guy had maybe volunteered for a lobotomy. Or a limb amputation. Or a pedicure.
“No fucking way,” V echoed. “When and where did you become a friend of the enemy—”
The angel held up his palms. “It’s not my fault you guys suck—”
Tohr actually stepped in front of Lassiter, like he was worried that something a lot more than smack talk was going to start flying. And the sad thing was, he was right to be concerned. Apart from their shellans, V and Butch loved the Sox above almost everything else—including sanity.
Mots clés vishous butch lassiter lover-at-last
If you’ve bullshitted me, angel, I’m going to kill you.”
The other male rolled his eyes. “I’m already dead, idiot.
Mots clés black-dagger-brotherhood j-r-ward bdb tohrment tohr lassiter
The righteous do not always do right, but their souls remain pure.
J.R. WardMots clés righteousness rehv lassiter
Cowards hide [...] but warriors lie and wait [...] the only difference is whether you're motivated by fear or purpose.
Neal ShustermanMots clés fear coward lev unwind warrior connor lassiter unsouled elina shusterman
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