Paranormal fiction offers authors – and readers – the chance to answer the question, What if? All the different ways that question can be answered make for extremely entertaining reading.
Whoever said ignorance was bliss was shortsighted.
You’re my Red Reaper, and I’ve missed you terribly.
He’ll learn that many women can satisfy for a short period of time, but when he falls in love, only one will sustain him forever.
You’re right. Everyone in this room with a pulse is starting to smell really good. Okay. Back in the box, better safe than sorry.
I don’t care what you think, your junk does not have special abilities.
Nice to meet you, mate, and here’s some advice: Don’t even think about it. You try anything with her and I’ll neuter you with my bare hands.
Don’t fret, Grannie. We’re going to a Bible retreat to scare the devil out of her.
I can give you honesty, monogamy, and more passion than you can stand, but not love. That emotion died in me long ago, as I suspect you already know.
If anyone’s under a spell, Justina, it’s me. Your daughter put one on me five years ago, and I haven’t broken free of it yet. Oh, and you’ll be delighted to know, we’ve decided to resume our relationship. Don’t bother with congratulations – trust me, your expression is congratulations enough.
I just elbowed the pretty blonde he’d been speaking to aside and slapped my panties on his chest. “As soon as I saw you”, I purred, “I knew I wouldn’t be needing these”!
It hasn’t escaped my notice that you only compliment me when you’re intoxicated.
Cat, you asked me before to find out if those dream -suppression pills had any side effects. I’ve checked with Pathology, and they said you might experience depression, mood swings, irritability, paranoia, and chronic fatigue. Have you noticed any of that?
How unconvincing. Try again.
I’m the only authentic Vlad. Everyone else is merely an envious imitation.
I’d relived enough terrible events happening to cautious people to know that prudence wasn’t a guarantee for happiness.
You probably love to tell kids to get off your lawn, too.
He tasted like sin made into wine: dark, heady, and impossible to resist.
I hadn’t expected to be kidnapped today or I’d have worn something more conservative.
You’re meant for me, and I will have you.
Good. If you checked your e-mail every five minutes, or keep texting and Tweeting in the middle of our conversation, I might snap your neck out of sheer principle.