And then he kisses me. Yes, the beautiful vampire, the dark general, the one who never gets close to anyone, leans in and presses his lips against mine. This kiss is soft. Gentle. Light. Like a butterfly’s wing whisking my lips.

For the record, I would have made a very lousy romance heroine.

Fangs and Kisses!

Did you… need something?” he asked in a tight voice. I swallowed hard, my mind racing with a million things to say. The fear pricking at me, telling me I had one last chance to wimp out. To walk away. But I shook my head. No. Not this time. “Yes,” I said simply. “I need something.” “And what, may I ask, do you need?” I met his eyes. “You.

Real men don’t kiss with the gentleness of a butterfly’s wing.

You know, being bitten by a vampire one week before prom really sucks. No pun intended.

Now Sunny, don’t get mad, but …” Rayne begins, her voice trembling. I shoot her an angry glare. “But WHAT, Rayne?” “I, uh, think you’ve accidentally been turned into a vampire.

You’d drain someone dry for me?

I can’t go on saving the world if it means neglecting my duties as a cheerleader.