“No one will ever hurt you again, not on my watch. I’ll stand between you and the world if I have to. You’re my heart, my soul, and I’ll spend every last breath ensuring you feel loved, cherished, and safe.”

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

She was so touch-deprived it bordered on cruelty, and I planned to make up for every stolen moment—to hold her, to care for her, until every fiber of her body and every corner of her soul recognized she was loved by me.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

I stayed silent, watching her breath. I wanted to freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever. No woman had ever affected me this deeply. Maybe it was her innocence—the fact that she was a blank slate due to her amnesia, free to write her story anew without the weight of past memories. God, how I longed to help her fill those empty spaces.

~Conan Thorin, Day Shift

She was Persephone.

Pure spring caught in the harsh reality of my dark domain.

And I?

I was Hades.

King of an underworld forged not of myth but of concrete and blood.

I knew, in the gut-wrenching way only a man like me could, that what I was about to do was wrong. I knew every fiber of her being would scream against the chains I hadn’t even yet forged—but I couldn’t stop the inevitable.

I would make her mine.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

She was a match, and I was soaked in gasoline.

Now every part of my life—my empire, my secrets, my control—was at risk of going up in flames, all because of one girl who spun through the air with the grace of an angel, tempting men to risk damnation just to touch her.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

By the time he’d finished the song, I was so wrapped up in his playing and the sound of his voice that I hadn’t realized how much my imagination had run wild. I was having a vivid daydream about those very fingers, imagining how well he could play—me—and betting mentally that he could make me sing too.

~Anastasia Volkov, Day Shift

Her eyes locked onto mine, and I had the insane urge to close the gap, to taste that sass on her lips.

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

“Stormy, you’re playing with fire.”

Crawling closer to him, I brushed my lips along his ear. “Good thing I’m not afraid of getting burned.”

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation

I had never been with a man who reached for me simply because he wanted to. Not out of dominance, not to stake a claim, not as a prelude to sex. Just a touch, a connection, as natural as breathing.

Butterflies—actual butterflies—fluttered in my stomach, something light and unfamiliar stirring in my chest.

I’d always thought that was just some romantic notion, a dreamy fantasy only found in books.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

She looked like temptation incarnate—everything I didn’t want to want. I told myself I was a man of logic. But after seeing the show she put on last night, I couldn’t suppress my baser instincts. I’d watched her move, twist, writhe, and command the attention of every man in the room. She didn’t need to fake seduction—it was in her bones.

This girl, who poured coffee and read romance novels by day, was no innocent flower. Within her was a scorching sun of sensuality.

I wanted her. And I didn’t care if she burned me alive.

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You