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Don't you worry, darlin'," he says, his intensely blue eyes full of mischief. "I like surprises

I hope we're not intruding,' she croons, sweetly. "Well, I say, "I was trying to get a little work done." I give T.J. a fuck-you-I-don't-look-weird-get-the-hell-out-of-here-look, but apparently only I know what the look is meant to convey.

You're into happiness?" the technician says, her eyes never leaving the computer screen. "I'm writing a book about it," I say. "About happiness?" she says. "Yes," I say. " Didn't the Dali Lama already write that book?

BY LISA GRUNWALD Time After Time The Irresistible Henry House Whatever Makes You Happy New Year's Eve The Theory of Everything Summer

Henry-despite his youth, his inexperience, and above all his profound gratitude for having just lost his virginity-made a mental note that this girl Lila was something of an idiot.

I'd been secretly fantasising about you waking up fully restored back to factory settings.

and she knows that she is somehow being diminished, that the care she is being shown by Scarlett is warped and wrong, that Scarlett has been taught how to love by people who don't know how to love and that everything she thinks is good is actually bad

Sophie's gut reaction had been no. No no no no no. She was a Londoner. She was independent. She had a career of her own. A social life. Her family lived in London.

All that air," you repeated. "You are funny." "No. I'm just Irish.

mean, Jesus Christ, when you saw me in the pharmacy that first time, I was a total mess. I had a hangover, and I was waiting for the morning-after pill, for God's sake.

never, ever told you I was classy. Not ever. I fucked you on our first date. What on earth made you think I was classy?

Your father was not a boss-eyed sailor. Or a rapist. He was a legend.

had been attracted by Josie's slight weirdness: the denim, the old husband, the clipped, detached way in which she spoke. It would be easy to assume that all her weirdness was a result of having spent her childhood with a narcissistic mother and her adult life with a man like Walter. But what if the weirdness was innate?

Yet somehow she found herself embroiled in a Bohemian, self-centred family like the Jacqueses. How did it happen? When did it happen? And why did it end the way it appears to have ended?

Then the light had gone and they'd dissipated like death stars falling away from the sun.

All men are weak, That's the whole bloody trouble with the world. Too weak to love properly. Too weak to be wrong.

statement. I immediately knew it to be the truest thing I'd ever heard. The weakness of men lay at the root of every bad thing that had ever happened.

In the fairy tale you mentioned last night, I would probably be the villain. But it's possible the villain would treat you far better than the prince would have.

Oh, I have a very pure soul. It's only my private parts that have gotten me into trouble".

He looked like a fallen angel, replete with all the dangerous male beauty that Lucifer could devise.

Bad divorce?" Hardy asked, his gaze falling to my hands. I realized I was clutching my purse in a death grip. "No, the divorce was great," I said. "It was the marriage that sucked.

Marriage would change hardly anything between us, except that we would end our arguments in a much more satisfying way. And of course I would have extensive legal rights over your body, your property, and all your individual freedoms, but I don't see what's so alarming about that.

Tell me about our legal issues. And use small words. I don't like to think at this hour of the morning. It hurts." ~Leo to Merripen

Would you say that you're a good man, Harry?" He had to think about that. "No," he finally said. "In the fairy tale you mentioned last night, I would probably be the villain. But it's possible the villain would probably treat you far better than the prince would have.