Your mail could've waited." Daemon followed me into the kitchen. "What is it? Just books?"Grabbing the OJ from the fridge, I sighed. People who didn't heart books didn't understand.

I understood books. I did not understand boys—especially alien boys.

This isn't a book. This isn't a paranormal fantasy or whatever the hell it is you read. There is no set plot or clear idea of where any of this is going. The enemies aren't obvious. There are no guaranteed happy endings.

sometimes happily-ever-after existed only in the books I read.

You read too much.” Daemon exhaled slowly. [...]"There’s no such thing as that.

More books." His eyes went wide. "You have, like, then books you just said you haven't read.""Doesn't mean I won't get more books." I smiled at is incredulous expression. "I haven't been able to read a lot lately, but I will, and then I won't be out of anything new to read.