Nothing turned a man on faster than a woman that couldn't get enough of what he had to offer.

— Rose Wynters

No wonder she was so underweight. She was desperate to please a woman that could never be pleased, in the hopes of being loved and accepted by the very person that should be giving that freely.

— Rose Wynters

Oh, girl! He's got a big one,” the fortune-teller exclaimed, her dark eyes briefly flickering up to Violet's face before returning to the cards spread out in front of her. She paused for a moment as she studied them, her pointer finger tapping against her jaw. Finally, she added, “Just like a summer sausage, and I'm not talking about the snack-sized ones. And it's attached to a body that could put Dwayne Johnson to shame. What women could resist a package like that? I'd say the future is definitely going to be bright... at least for you.

— Rose Wynters

Once he got there, he stopped and looked back. “You know, the thing about manners is that we only seem to notice the lack of them in others. It's a lot harder to see mistakes in ourselves.

— Rose Wynters

Orlando had a Pinto, a car that hadn't been in existence for thirty-plus years. He still hadn't figured out why a strong, strapping werewolf would want one. Orlando said it was because he'd customized it. Painted pink with purple stripes, the younger male could often be found cruising up and down the streets of Wolf Town, with his terrible music blaring out of the windows. The car was a ticking time bomb. Already, more than one werewolf had offered to blow it up. Orlando better enjoy it, Connor doubted he would have it for very much longer.

— Rose Wynters

Ryker, you ride with Orlando,” Ryker mocked in a snarky voice as he turned to the other man. He gestured toward the Pinto with a look of revulsion on his rugged face. “How the hell does he expect both of us to fit into that tiny metal trap? Even if we could squeeze in, the tires will probably pop. In fact, let's just carry it over. It'll be faster that way.

— Rose Wynters

She turned back to the reporter, holding out the microphone. “I'm not an expert, I'm a survivor. I hope you can learn how to be one yourself.

— Rose Wynters

The preacher released a pent-up breath as he sagged in relief. “Thank God he's gone.” His eyes narrowed at Alexander as he bit out, “Did you know that man had the nerve to lasso me while I was out in the woods?

— Rose Wynters

There's no way that you're real,” she murmured to his crotch.

— Rose Wynters

This life has no meaning to me now. Do not grieve for me, my dear. Up until the moment I lost her, I had a wonderful life. These moments now are the ones that are hard. I’m eager to depart this world and rejoin her in the next. Then, and only then, will I finally be at peace.

— Rose Wynters