It Was Heaven. Forget Angels, Forget St.

Michael Nodded Tersely, Eyeing A Table Across The Room. It Was Empty. So Empty. So Joyfully, Blessedly Empty. He Could Picture Himself A Very Happy Man At That Table. "not Feeling Very Conversational This Evening, Are We?" Colin Asked, Breaking Into His (admittedly Tame) Fantasies.

Did You Know I Dream About Your Hair? I Use To Say It Was The Color Of The Sun At Sunset, But I'm Wrong. It's Brighter Than The Sun, Just As You Are.

She Needed Him To Be Him. Even If He Could Not Be Hers.

If He Was Planning To Attack And Ravish, He Gave No Indication Of Being In A Hurry To Do So.

Don’t Tell Me Your Name. It’s Likely To Awaken My Conscience, And That’s The Last Thing We Want.