Hunting Prince Dracula (Stalking Jack the Ripper Book 2)

“You look like you should stop saying you’re going to kiss me, Prince Dracula.” He flinched as if my words had stung him. I drew his face back to me. “And just do it, Cresswell.”

“You’re dressed for sneaking about Dracula’s castle. Be still my thawing, dark heart. You certainly know how to make a young man feel alive, Wadsworth.”

I’d overcome death, and destruction, and heartache, and would not let any of those dark times define me. I was the rose with thorns my mother knew me to be.

“You are most certainly going to be the death of my dignity, Wadsworth.”

No matter how much Thomas pretended otherwise, he was still a man.

“I do agree that love is wonderful,” I began slowly, not wanting to offend, “but there’s also a certain magic in being perfectly content with one’s own company. I believe greatness lies within. And is ours to harness or unleash at will.”

If one simply looks to others for their opinions, they lose the ability to think critically for themselves. Progress would never be made if everyone appeared and thought and loved in the same manner.”

Saints drag me to Hell.

I didn’t care if he expelled me from the course for my insubordination. I would not be treated as if my mind were inferior because I’d been blessed with the ability to bear children.

“You would miss me terribly and know it. Just as I would miss you in ways I cannot fathom, should we ever part.”