"What a childhood I had. Once on my birthday my ol' man gave me a bat. The first day I played with it, it flew away."

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I’m a succubus.” He shook his head. “No, you aren’t.” “Yes, I am.” “You aren’t.” I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. “I am too.” “No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don’t wear jeans and sweaters.

— Richelle Mead