When you’re a professional athlete, you get paid millions of dollars for doing something that’s not only fun, but also physical and badass. You have fans: pathetic people without their own lives or hopes or dreams that measure their happiness on your weekly performance (this still boggles my mind, but in the best way possible—however, my role as a fan now is quite detached). You get to travel around to different cities and fuck their most beautiful women. You are given license to do pretty much whatever you want all the time, and are forgiven easily and often instantly when caught doing anything illegal. Professional athletes can literally get away with murder.
— A.D. AliwatThe deer hovered by the trees beyond as the sounds of the ravening wolves came to them across the grass, their own senses almost frozen in impotent horror.
— David Clement-DaviesI met a boy. And when he smiled, my life began.
— K. WebsterWhat? Don't you want a girl who can talk dirty to you?'His look only hardens. 'No, Lucy. I'm serious. I won't tolerate that from you.' He doesn't look away and I feel that heat in the pit of my stomach, spreading down again. 'Well...I've heard you curse before...' I swallow loudly, but keep his gaze.'I'm a man.
— Willow MadisonThe tears were there, waiting to make their escape. But she wouldn’t let them. Not this time. She couldn’t. Because if there was one thing she had to do now, it was be strong and brave. She just had to be strong and brave for one week. That was no time at all. And when the week was over and Milo had found his true mate, she would disappear.
— Elaine WhiteYou’ve been drinking. Let’s go before I become the asshole prick you think I am.
— Cristin HarberI needed to channel the darkness that ran through my veins and embrace it. To play this game better than this man ever could have predicted. After all, I’d only been with him twice, and already I could see his weakness. His weakness was me.
— A. ZavarelliThere was really way too much hotness going on back there.
— Aileen ErinHis heart is the rhythm, mine is the echo.
— A. ZavarelliYou may want the alpha, but the alpha has his pick.
— Donna Lynn Hope