Dolls Are Like Small Dead People.

You Bring The Color And The Life. It's A Lucky Man Who Is Offered That Color And Life, And A Wise One Who Values It.

She Was The Only Woman He Was Afraid He Would Beg For.

He Trailed Off As He Saw The Books. Piles And Stacks Of Them Beside The Sofa, Another Stack On The Coffee Table, A Sea Of Them On Her Dining Table. Jesus Christ, Dane, You Need Treatment.

He Loves Me." "you Sound Surprised." "nobody Ever Did. Not Like This. It's Easy To Say, For Some People. The Words. But It's Not Just Words With Roarke. He Sees Inside Me, And It Doesn't Matter.

Aren't Most Romance Heros, Or Heros In Fiction Of Any Kind, Generally Superior To Real Men? Same Goes For Heroines And Real Women.