Selena’s brows rose even higher. “Trez, I heard something—”“—’cuz I’m that desperate to have you!”“—that sounded like a gun!”They were both hollering over the engine, going back and forth as Fritz bat-out-of-hell’d it away from all the bullets.And then the fun really began.

Just then, a telltale scent reached Trez’s nose and rocketed through his blood, the impact wrenching his head and his body around …Whereupon he lost all thought. All breath. And all of his soul.Selena stood at the head of the bloodred-carpeted steps, her lovely hand resting on the gold-leafed balustrade, her body held stiffly, as if she weren’t sure about her shoes, or her dress, or maybe even her hair.There was absolutely nothing to worry about.Unless she had a problem with being an H-bomb.

Shit. With Qhuinn looking at him like that, he couldn’t remember his own name. Blaysox? Blacklock? Blabberfox? Who the fuck knew…

Love, after all, was universal. Qhuinn closed his fist up tight, and knew he would never, ever take that ring off. “Always,” Blay murmured. “Because family is an always kind of thing.

She'd hated spending the daylight hours away from him, hated the distance between them, and she wasn't letting it go on anymore on her side.

We work together. That’s it. So I want you to do us both a favor before you think I ‘need’ to know something. Ask yourself, ‘If I were flipping burgers at McDonald’s, would I be telling the fucking fry guy this?’ If the answer is no, then shut the hell up.

Qhuinn dived into the plane, pulled himself into the pilot’s seat, and tried to make sense of all the…fucking hell, there were a lot of dials. The only saving grace he had was that he’d—Rat-tat-tat-tat!—watched enough movies to know that the lever with the grip was the gas and the bow tie–shaped wheel was the thing you pulled up to go up, and pushed down to go down.“Fuck,” he muttered as he stayed in a tuck position as much as he could.

But of course, time didn't work like that. And memory is but a television show of your own life, a movie screen that you can play witness to, but not interact with, change to course of, redirect.

I'm proud of you, and I love you," Blay said yet again, that old, familiar voice cutting through all of those years of rejection and judgement, giving him not just a rope of acceptance to hang onto, but a flesh-and-blood hand to lead him out of the darkness of his past... And into a future that didn't require lies or excises, because of what he was, and what they were, was both extraordinary--and nothing out of the ordinary. Love, after all, was universal.

Fuck you. I am more than just a pair of ovaries you can put a ring on.