“Seelie Court,” murmurs Nate. “Sounds familiar. Was it in a computer game?” “Do I look like someone who plays computer games?” A… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Creepy Hollow?” He snorts. “Like Sleepy Hollow ?” “No, like Creepy Hollow. It has nothing to do with sleeping.” — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“I put my hands on my hips. “What’s wrong with the way I look?” “Come on, Vi,” he says, keeping his voice… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“You guys dated, didn’t you?” “Are you insane? Not even if the continuation of our kind depended on it would I be… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“It’s hard to say no to Nate, even when he’s wearing a shirt. I should have made him cover his face too.” — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Are you serious? Vi’s arm has been magically barbequed and you think she needs a cupcake ?” — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Whatever game you’re playing, you’re going to lose,” he whispers. “And I’ll be right there to rub your nose in it when… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“I refuse to let you talk me into a make-out session in a dodgy, underground tunnel. I have standards, you know.” — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Is that what you were doing in my room?” he asks after a moment. I sigh. Why am I telling him any… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“The bathroom door swings open and Nate walks out. He’s toweling his damp hair and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Did you really think I wouldn’t look for you?” “Honestly? Yes. You seemed a little busy losing your tongue down someone else’s… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“You’re not the kind of person to just randomly fall in love. You’re way too . . .” My eyes shoot to his. “Too what?”… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“I would have thought you’d pay more attention to your closest competition.” “I would—if you were competition worth paying attention to.” — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Colors shift like smoke within the branch beneath our feet. Sprites jump from leaf to leaf, leaving sprinklings of glittery dust in… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“Whoa, this isn’t the Training Center, you know,” I tell him. “There’s a certain level of clothing etiquette in this house, and… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
“I angle my head down and peer up at him through my lashes in what I hope is an alluring manner. I… — Rachel Morgan Copy Share Image
