You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one’s better in bed.
Don’t kiss me like a woman if you’re going to treat me like a child.
You called her Kitten? And she let you? She put me in a coma for three days when I called her that! My balls never recovered from her smashing them into my spine!
I think we need to have a little talk, woman to skank.
She’s my kitten, and no one else’s.
Where are you, bloodsuckers? Here, fangy, fangy, fangy...
I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those held a candle to the pain I felt at seeing his mouth on hers.
Would you mind repeating that? I’m afraid I might have lost my wits altogether and just hallucinated what I’ve longed to hear.
You’re not a woman,” he said finally. “You’re the Grim Reaper with red hair!
There is only one way to fight, and that’s dirty. Clean gentlemanly fighting will get you nowhere but dead, and fast. Take every cheap shot, every low blow, absolutely kick people when they’re down, and maybe you’ll be the one who walks away.