Not Much Could Have Distracted Me From

John Cusack Is Standing Over There.” I Followed His Incredulous Gaze To Where A Man Very Like Mr. Cusack Did Indeed Stand, Smoking A Cigarette As He Leaned Against A Building. I Sighed. “that’s Not John Cusack. That’s Jerome.” “seriously?” “yup. I Told You He Looked Like John Cusack.” “keyword: Looked. That Guy Doesn’t Look Like Him. That Guy Is Him.

Hey Mason, Wipe The Drool Off Your Face. If You're Going To Think About Me Naked, Do It On Your Own Time." [...] "this Is My Time, Hathaway. I'm Leading Today's Session." "oh Yeah?" I Retorted. "huh. Well, I Guess This Is A Good Time To Think About Me Naked, Then." "it's Always A Good A Time To Think About You Naked," Added Someone Nearby, Breaking The Tension Further.

There Were Drinks And Food In Full Force, And Some Moroi Guy Had A Guitar Out And Was Trying To Impress Girls With His Musical Skills—which Were Nonexistent. In Fact, His Music Was So Awful That He Might Have Discovered A New Way To Kill Strigoi.

Bless You, Daugher Of Man," Carter Said, His Eyes Luminous And Almost Silver Now. He Leaned Down And Kissed My Forehead. I Closed My Eyes And Caught My Breath. His Lips Were Both Burning Hot And Icy Cold.

Even If I’d Been Wide Awake, I Knew Dimitri Would’ve Taken My Suitcase Anyway. That’s How He Was, A Lost Remnant Of Chivalry In The Modern World, Ever-ready To Help Others.