His eyes opened, and he stared at me. The morning light was streaming through the window,and my hair rolled in waves over either shoulder.“God has smiled upon me. I have the most beautiful wife in all the land.

Lia let out a low growl and moved her arrow to the base of his fat throat. "What do you think, Gabi? Would you like to see these nuptials through?""Not this day," I said"How about on the morrow?" Marcello asked, smiling and lifting my hand to his lips. "If I am your groom?""Hold that eHarmony thought," Lia whispered in English. "We gotta get out of here.

If you both care for each other more than you care for yourself, your marriage will endure all.

Are you educated in the art of medicine?” Yeah, the art of Walgreens and Urgent Care. “A bit,” I hedged.

I nodded, pretending to be a hundred times more courageous than I felt.But that was the thing about courage. Sometimes you had to fake it to feel it.

We all have freedom of choice. Over and over again, minute by minute. How will you live your life? For yourself Or for others? For something good? For love?

Fantasizing about an Italian hottie was far better than my normal dreams.

fortes fortuna adiuvat," Marcello had said to his men. Fortune favors the brave, the bold.

But that was the thing about courage. Sometimes you had to fake it to feel it.

Okay, try this on for size, Tall, Dark and Handsome. I won't be born for almost seven hundred hundred years. How's that strike you?

Loyalty is not loyalty unless one clings to it in the face of adversity.

Don't you agree? Swordplay is a dance of sorts, an understanding of the logical, most sophisticated next step. Except that in a fight, one must take the unexpected step. In dance it is all about taking the right, expected step.

I looked up and beyond him again, focusing in on the horror that swords, arrows, clubs, and staffs left behind on human flesh. The open wounds. The blood, The brokenness. The inglorious remains of war.