A bookish man with glasses, wearing a white lab coat, opened the door to the small house.
A brief search of the house yielded neither man.
A civilian dressed older man stepped forward.
A little man did all the talking and introductions.
A man Dean didn't recognize turned around and shook his hand before starting the old car.
A man named Dawkins bought the mine from the Rowland estate.
A man of few words, Gabriel hadn't gotten used to the political side of his job yet.
A man stopped to talk to us and tried to pat Bumpus.
A man was waiting for me at the old house - a man with red hair.
A man, not the usual wimpy social lady, was the culprit who organized the hasty departure.
A man's face, a woman in the hospital on her death bed, their children surrounding them.
A small pulse of power, and the man dropped.
A woman was screaming, another man shouting.
After a childhood filled with foster homes, she feared getting too comfortable, even in the home of the man who adopted her twelve years ago, when she was ten.
Again the red headed man crossed her mind.
Alex eyed the man suspiciously as he said goodbye and walked away.
Alex glanced from her to the man, his face revealing absolutely no expression.
Alex might be alive in body, but he was no longer the man she had married.
Alex, staring at his bloody hands after the man ran out the door.
Amid boxes, lamps, and glassware of every description sat the old man, atop a trunk, snuggled between the two maiden ladies from Indiana.
An elegantly dressed man in his sixties identified as Assistant Director Carlton Summerfield had taken charge.
An older man with dementia left to rot and finally die in an old folks' home.
An older, harmless-looking man with white hair and beautiful emerald eyes stood near the door, holding out a phone.
And he loved Billy, perhaps enough to kill the man he thought caused Billy's death.
And she'd never demean herself to that man.
And the man stabbed Alex with a knife.
And this … thing—" Damian indicated the man with red eyes "—is Charles.
And yet, the man who stabbed him was behind bars, and the person who hired him had confessed.
Another woman, a very tall blond, stood a few paces back, a smile on her face, watching the old man.
Apparently the man had never entered the house and no damage was done.
Are you sure it was a dead man you saw?
As handsome as he was, her eyes were compelled to the man beside him.
As he began to ramble on about Mrs. Langstrom's cooking, Mrs. Lincoln jumped down and stood on hind legs, stretching up the young man's pant leg.
As she crept up the stairs of the wine cellar to the kitchen, she couldn't help feeling troubled at leaving the man in the basement.
As the man took her arm to help her stand, his haggard face appeared in yet another vision.
At first she thought he might have been a visitor of the other man in the room, but the family said he had asked for Alex, and had stayed with him for a little while.
At last, she forced herself to lie down and tried not to think of the man named Jule, whose soul still lingered.
At the first hint of below freezing weather, Howie was on the job, covering everything and reading up on all preventive measures known to man.
Backing the car up, she watched the man with the sword drop to his knees and slowly stand.
Before she recovered from the shock, the man knocked the phone from her hand and grabbed her arm, jerking her toward him.
Behind them the red-headed man followed for only a few seconds before turning back toward the house.
Beside the nurse who was busy collecting equipment, there was a man in a suit standing by the door.
Bianca asked, surprised the man had feelings.
Bianca cried, seeing the man as well.
Bianca jumped at the voice and peered out of the kitchen at the man named Darian.
Both Deans heard it but the old man appeared not to have noticed.
Both men felt the old man had probably killed him, but Westlake's brief disclosure was insufficient to pursue the matter and as both men were dead, there was little incentive to do so.
Brandon Westlake was portrayed as a delusional old man bent on killing any and all witnesses to his half-century-old deed.
But did any man deserve death?
But how would the man know Alex was in the hospital?
But I sure took a close look at my old man's will.
But she couldn't help feeling as if she'd never truly known the man she loved until someone else told her what she missed.
But sorry, they were as in the dark as the man on the street as to source or circumstance.
But then you were so convinced the bones belonged to that man Josh that I decided to let matters play out.
But there was another reason she dared not leave her father, one she feared voicing even to the man before her.
But they were polite, to a man.
But this man, an enemy who had—up until now—wanted to kill her, left her feeling a little less alone.
But you have one man you can sleep around with.
But, alas, the danger was too great and I am a cautious man.
By day he was the man she married – less a voice.
Carmen was waiting for Alex outside the clinic with Destiny one day when the red-headed man strolled up to the car.
Claire was all that remained of his brother, and he'd loved her out of respect for a man whose death he'd never been able to accept.
Could Lori have sent the man?
Damian disappeared, followed by the man named Jonny and the woman with him.
Damian was the strongest man Two had ever met.
Damian wondered what the hell Sofi had figured out that would send the man before him into the teenage-like fit.
Damian's brother was somewhere inside the scarred shell of a man before him.
Darian had been a shell of a man when Sofi found him several months ago.
Dean climbed the stairs to the old man's room.
Dean could picture him and the old man breaking into the storage building in the dead of night.
Dean couldn't think of any reason not to confirm its authenticity to the old man and did so.
Dean didn't even offer a quip about Fred's tightness with a buck and his moth-eaten purse as the old man called over a waitress to do the duties.
Dean didn't press the old man for whatever he knew nor did Fred offer any information.
Dean explained that the miniature remains belonged to a very bad man.
Dean had no intention of specifically mentioning Billy Langstrom, though the young man's death was on everyone's mind.
Dean had trouble remembering who was who but all were of like mind in their affection for the old man who turned up the charm meter a notch or two.
Dean left the cell confident that the old man was coping, but he was beginning to mirror Fred's concern with his past.
Dean paid no mind that the old man wasn't in the know about the latest Hollywood styles and so informed him.
Dean planned to cruise the town later in hopes of locating the young man.
Dean recognized the man but didn't know his name.
Dean was sure the old man and his dilapidated old Scout had done this a thousand times before.
Dean wondered if the young man knew the girl's condition.
Did I trust this man I'd never met, enough to hand over all our identities?
Did the man stab the wrong person?
Do you have any idea how good it makes a man feel to have a beautiful woman look at him that way?
Do you know who the man was?
Don't leave me here alone with that mad man on the loose!
Dustin didn't look like the kind of man who would like anything, let alone presents.
Dustin escorted the man into the mansion, and Pierre wrapped an arm around her as she sagged.
Dusty eyed the wiry man coolly, and Damian chuckled.
Dusty glanced at his long-time Miami Station Chief, the handsome Hispanic man who looked as severe as he was lighthearted.
Dusty spun again and continued walking, aware of the anxious young man at his heels.
Fat man in black stifled a laugh while the acting sheriff glowered.
Fred just snorted, but Dean noted the old man didn't deny the question.
Green smoke swirled from the man's ears and mouth, forming a fog around Gabe's hand before crystallizing into a small emerald.
Han stayed with her, not moving until two Guardians—a raven-haired man with a quick smile and a brooding blond—approached.
Han was as big as the man before her, and if he feared him … Damian's gaze swept over her.
Harmony bent and lifted the dead man in a fireman's carry.
Have you found out who the dead man is?
He began to cry, the soul-deep weeping of a man who'd lost all and spent his tormented life in a level of hell she'd never be able to imagine.
He could forgive her for what the man did – that was his doing, but not for what Lori intended to do to Carmen.
He detailed the man's selection of clothes and the contents of his medicine cabinet as he shaved.
He dialed and spoke in a different language to the man on the other end.
He didn't look like a rich man, but then, what did a rich man look like?
He didn't need this type of drama, and she was too good for a man like him in her life.
He didn't remember when this man had arrived or why he was supposed to remember him.
He doesn't seem to be the man we suspected.
He faced the small man with glowing green eyes.
He followed the man with eyes as green as the moss in the corner of his room down the busy hallways, unaffected by the men who spit on him or shoved him as he went.
He had no control of his own powers, and he'd not yet been tested in a confrontation with the man who enslaved him.
He had no emotions, like a man in a Halloween mask.
He knelt beside them, staring at the horribly scarred man.
He made his way through the crowded halls, grunting under the weight of the man.
He may be a very bad man but we won't know until we have a friend of ours check the license plate.
He opened the box to reveal a man's platinum signet ring with the half-moon, half-sun, and arrow symbol neatly carved on its head.
He planted a hand on the chest of each man and pushed them a part.
He provided details on the hotel, time and room number where the man allegedly stayed.
He reached for her, but his scarred hand passed through hers, as if all that remained of him was a ghost of the man he'd been.
He really wasn't a man of detail, which was why she was so surprised to see him working as a financial planner.
He saw the man who had called him pacing as Laney had indicated.
He saw the woman come into focus, and the man with mossy eyes released him.
He seems like a nice man.
He sensed the visions in her head, not surprised to see his own black memories playing on the screens on the back of her eyelids along with a dark nightmare of a man in a corner crying.
He stared into Darian's gold eyes, seeking some sign of the man he'd known.
He stopped Fred when the old man began to excuse himself.
He studied the small man infatuated with his phone.
He too congratulated the old man.
He turned to see the small man with bright green eyes that glowed in the moonlight.
He turned to see the young man's face flushed this time with anger, his eyes glittering.
He turned, not surprised to see the small, grandfatherly man standing deeper in the alley.
He wanted to make sure he had time to hook up with Billy Langstrom and question the young man, whom he knew would be there.
He wanted to warn the young man to wear a bulletproof vest and keep his hands in his lap for protection.
He was a puzzle, a man with no memory beyond waking up in the morning.
He was accompanied by Dustin and two other men, one she knew as Sasha, a man who'd struck her with his devotedness to his family, and Levi, a man who'd been present in many of his pre-Schism memories.
He was built from the same mold—large and muscular, the kind of man more fitted to military special forces or UFC prizefighting than financial planning.
He was just a nice person who happened to be a man.
He was much more cordial now that he was immersed in what amounted to a major man hunt.
He was not a pretty boy but a man with rugged, bad-boy beauty and a slow sensuality about his movement that made her heart skip a beat despite her pain.
He was older, in his mid-thirties, and the light took longer to appear in his eyes than it had the younger man.
He was the kind of man she wouldn't think twice about running from, though the intelligence gleaming in his soulful brown eyes gave him away as something more.
He was the sexiest man she'd ever seen, and the swirling aura of command only amplified his physical appeal.
He was trying to put a move on me, the silly man.
He was, by far, the most handsome man she had ever seen.
He wasn't a tall man, but he walked with the confidence of one.
He wasn't to that point yet, and he had to figure out just how to protect the woman from the man she considered her own father.
He watched a man and woman grab Eric when he went to the bathroom and with her hand over the boy's mouth, push him into a car.
He wished the old man would spit it out, whatever was bugging him.
He withdrew, not looking at the shocked man standing in the kitchen doorway.
He wondered if the man was his soul, weeping for his brother.
He would have hauled Fred along for company, but the old man had a date, so Dean was on his own.
He'd always known Pumpkin was a flake, but he honestly liked the young man and flakiness wasn't the worst trait carried by the young and the restless.
He'd claimed someone would try to kill her, and the man they sought was here.
He'd never been so thrilled to see a dead man as he was that moment.
He's a nice young man and I feel would make a far less labor intensive mate than Howie would have proved to be.
He's a personable young man and a whale of a basketball player.
He's a very vindictive man.
He's just like our old man.
Heart pounding, she stared at the woman and man before her.
Her beauty was cool and classic, like that of the man before her.
Her eyes snapped closed, her last vision that of the most striking man she'd ever seen.
Her eyes went to the chiseled features of the man sitting near her.
Her father had disappeared into thin air with the body of the man he called Jule.
Her father hated this man for some reason, and being near him put them both in danger.
Her father said the man came to kill her, yet she was still alive.
Her gaze was riveted to the man before her.
Her presence would have the same calming effect on Dusty, who was the most wound-up man Jule knew.
Her thoughts returned to the dead man alone in the dark room.
Here in dwells an old man with whom I would like to converse.
Here she sat, covered in blood, drugged, one day from being all out crazy, then kidnapped—and the sight of the man before her turned her on.
His command was quiet and firm, but Sofia knew no man in the room would disobey a man like him.
His father looked like a tall man.
His gaze fell to the silvery ring the man before him wore.
His gaze was stormy, but there was more there, a profound sadness that made the large man more human.
His gaze went back to the dead man Rhyn wanted him to find.
His old man was a miner and lived in Ouray when Fitzgerald was a kid—a snot-nosed bully, I suspect.
His scent drove her body wild, the mix of sweat, darkness, and man.
How could you tell it was a man?
How did the man you were discussing before dinner get caught, do you know?
How much more did the man know about her routine?
How sick was the man who kept his former enemy as a slave?
I am a man of discretion.
I asked without answering the man's question.
I asked, just as a stocky bearded man dressed in a brown religious smock came out of a side door.
I believe … I hope … that man is still inside of him somewhere.
I can only applaud this man's ability to deduce.
I couldn't tell if the look he gave me was incredulity or concern but he grabbed my arm and led me outside where a suited man who must have topped six foot five was walking toward us.
I didn't say you were – and I didn't say what I was doing with that man, either.
I guess if you give a man the ability to build his own mate, he'll make her a tramp.
I know, Darian! she replied, hoping the man in her head didn't distract her.
I lost it when I was running from the man with the sword.
I really don't know any more than the man on the street.
I shook my head in wonder at this man.
I started checking my old man's papers and I found these reports— way back when he first bought the property.
I think the man who did it may have taken my wife and a young girl.
I told her what we found and that we believed her and we're closer to finding the man's identity.
I tried to think how I'd make such a request without getting Merrill Cooms' right hand man in trouble.
I understand from Dawkins' son his old man was paying Josh pretty well to be his mine manager—up until August of 1961 when Josh disappeared.
I wanted to see what you would do when confronted with the man you thought you were going to return to, he replied.
I was afraid he'd bite the man and I'd get in big trouble.
I wonder if it was that sweet man Joseph Dawkins?
I'm good friends with a very troubled man.
I'm not dealing with the FBI, I'm dealing with Daniel Brennan, recent man of leisure.
I'm okay with you running him over, the man with the cool blue eyes said.
If a man could be more consoling, I've not met him.
If a woman says no and a man does it anyway, isn't that rape?
If he'd been talking about any other man, she would have doubted his words.
If I had, I'd be a rich man, wouldn't I?
If it was so valuable, why didn't old man Dawkins develop it?
If she had a choice of what to believe, she'd believe Jule, a man she barely knew.
If she hadn't screamed, maybe the man would have taken what he wanted and left.
If the man didn't freeze down there, he'd die at the hands of her father and his strange delusion that this man wanted her dead.
If the men around her were predators, the man who entered next was their alpha.
If there were remains of a man in that mine, I would think you'd want to know who he was.
If you're begging for the old man, don't bother.
If you're half the man everyone tells me you are, you'll send Han some flowers.
In France there once lived a famous man who was known as the Marquis de Lafayette. When he was a little boy his mother called him Gilbert.
In the time that he had been home, he never asked about the man who stabbed him, nor the situation with Lori.
Incidentally, he supposedly came on the radar as a result of a tip from this man or woman everyone's read about; the so-called psychic tipster person.
Instead, she watched a man many, many times her strength gently clean the blood from her arm in unhurried, methodical strokes.
Is there some way to restrict the man from seeing Alex unless I'm here?
Isn't any young man capable of restraint—responsibility?
It brought a further smile to the old man's face.
It didn't matter who called them as long as the man was put where he could do no more harm.
It made no sense, but neither did the sudden craving for peanut butter that dragged her to the kitchen, where yet another man she wanted to avoid was lounging.
It was a man too familiar to be a stranger, with beautiful purple eyes, a small frame, and a face without emotion.
It was a man, in a shirt.
It was a real skeleton—of a man.
It was a strange thing for a man to say.
It was a young man's—or woman's—game, although Dean doubted he'd have joined the contest, at least not willingly, even in his careless years.
It was dark, cold, and the shots hit the man with lopsided shoulders, dropping him dead to the ground.
It was not just any dead man, but the right one.
It was the man he'd seen talking to Ginger Dawkins at the Farmer's Market on Sunday.
It was the man's turn to nod.
It was the same man, she was sure of it.
It was when man interfered that things got out of balance.
It wrenched open, and a man in a black trench coat Damian's size looked her over once.
Jake cleaved in two by a maniacal man with a sword.
John Luke Grasso is our man.
Jonny wouldn't listen to his nagging sister, but he'd darned well listen to a man as terrifying as Dusty could be.
Jule drew a deep breath and faced the small, grandfatherly man with eyes the color of an Irish meadow.
Jule sensed a great deal of turmoil behind his calm features and pitied the man.
Jule wasn't the type of man who worried about anything, and fear slid through her.
Jule, whose soul had somehow lingered in her body when she'd touched him, and who had become the only man she'd ever felt safe around.
Just when I start to like you … you know, it's amazing even a man who's thousands of years old can act like a twelve-year-old.
Leave it to a man to avoid expressing how he felt, but it had to make him feel less of a man.
Let me put my man on the line.
Linda flashed her a strained smile that made her feel welcome for the first time in a week before the pretty brunette gave the blond man, Lon, a hug and kiss.
Man up and tell me in person.
Maybe every man out there was like Aaron, unable to commit to one woman.
Maybe he had a harem of women at his beck and call, but she couldn't see herself with any other man.
Maybe the man in the picture wasn't his father.
Maybe the man owns a dog himself and Bumpus smelled the scent on him.
Maybe the man was driving Lori's car.
Maybe this man had a seedy past – or present, life.
Mostly meant the old man was in jail again, or they was looking to find him and put him there.
My old man beat me like a tom-tom at an Indian dance and he didn't need that much of an excuse.
Next I was shown a photograph of a chubby cheeked man about forty, with short hair and a six o'clock shadow.
No one wanted to go back to the house until the man was apprehended.
No woman would ever be more than second to a man like that, but being the woman who was second in his world sounded better than anything else she'd ever wanted.
Nobody knows where the man is and even if he's been in there a long, long time, someone must care about him, or at least maybe did back then, when it happened.
Nothing was learned from the brief visit that contradicted what the man had said to me.
Now there was life and light in his eyes, even if he wasn't quite the man Jule remembered.
Of course, since Lori had hired the man who stabbed him, it might not be a good idea.
On Thursday of the third week, she arrived at the hospital and walked into the room he shared with another man.
One morning a distinguished looking Spanish man was walking out of the room as she entered.
One of the monsters pulled off its head to reveal a man.
One was of medium height and slender, an older man with sharp green eyes the color of forest moss who seemed out of place in the middle of the room.
Our man must have spent some time digging.
Panic and tears soon drained her of energy, and she stared listlessly at the bloodied ceiling until the man in the corner stirred.
Papa, there was a man in our house who tried to kill me.
Pumpkin and some of Billy's friends thought there might be more to the young man's death than reported.
Roger was a tiny man, no taller than Cynthia, with snowy white hair and sparkling blue eyes.
Say you're a world class swimmer and spot a drowning man.
Sensing similar distress in the man before her, she sat down.
She blinked, shocked when he walked through the man with the green eyes as if he weren't there.
She collapsed onto her bed and sobbed, the man in the corner sobbing with her.
She couldn't get over seeing a grown man acting like a teenager.
She dodged and rolled as the man reached for her again.
She felt his fear and squeezed her eyes closed, the man in her arms colliding with the man hiding in the corner of her mind.
She felt the sense of being centered for the first time in her life and knew it was because of the man before her.
She has begun seeing someone; a young man who does grounds keeping work at the Country Club and is a half dozen years her junior.
She held her head in her hands, tormented by his pain without understanding how she was supposed to help a dead man.
She lay still, the man in the corner so silent she had to look several times to make sure he was still there.
She looked down, both thrilled by the idea of an eternity with the man who made her feel whole and horrified at what her father told her.
She lowered her gaze at the heated look from the man who drove her crazy every other minute of her day.
She never mentioned Lori or the man who had stabbed him – or anything else unpleasant.
She patted the pocket in her skirt containing the paper on which Jule had scribbled down the phone number of the towering man before her.
She placed the medallion around her neck and admired it in the mirror, vowing not to think of the man whose presence plagued her.
She recognized Damian and Darian as they neared and crept closer to Jule at the sight of the strange man with red glowing eyes.
She saw Damian watch the new king get his tattoo as a rite of passage, saw it again as Claire made love to the man meant to be her husband, saw it in Isac's vision as he hacked the tattooed man apart.
She saw the thaw from the cactus daring anyone to touch him to the man she'd spoken to on the phone.
She shook out the sexual energy running through her and turned on a light, not wanting to be alone in the dark while the dead man in her thoughts began to sob once more.
She stared at him, not sure what to say or think about finding a man chained to her basement wall.
She stared at the towering man with red eyes, not sensing him at all.
She started to drive home then thought of the man she and Jule both tried to kill.
She started to the table then stopped, unable to dismiss the feeling of the man's arms around her or what she'd felt when they touched.
She still felt the man named Jule, and he was here.
She stood with a tall, good-looking man with a rounded haircut that might have been stylish somewhere but to Dean looked silly.
She stopped a safe distance from him, unable to reconcile the man on the phone with the man before her.
She strained against the man again.
She told him the news and all the sunshine left the old man's smile.
She took a step back, uncertain what the man was but aware her instincts were at a scream.
She turned and gasped, staring at the large man before her.
She turned to face him, surprised to find the man who'd almost killed her earlier.
She turned to face the small man and gasped.
She turned, startled to find the man in front her of the same make and mold as Damian's men.
She twisted in her chair to see a man near the dark windows whose eyes were the color of her bright purple Easter dress.
She wanted him, the man behind the titles and the power.
She was brutally murdered by the same man who killed young girls in Delaware, Alabama and several other states.
She was in jeans and a man's dress shirt, her most unrevealing outfit to date.
She was looking forward to meeting this man.
She wasn't able to reconcile the creature that turned her Immortal with the man before her.
She wasn't sure she'd seen a man as big as he was anywhere but on the TV.
She wasn't sure what she expected when she faced him, but it wasn't the gangly young man with large, uncertain brown eyes.
She willed herself not to think of the man named Jule trapped somewhere in the house.
She wondered if the dead man in her head, Darian, felt this way when he cried.
She would never give this man the visions he wanted!
She'd given relationship advice to the woman who condemned her to Hell, advice meant to help snag the heart of a man she hadn't stopped loving.
She'd had never felt overwhelmed by a man before, and she'd certainly never been a woman who felt weak-kneed!
She'd hoped not to lose the man she loved as well.
She'd never been turned on by a look, though if anyone could do it, the intense man beside her could.
She'd never seen a man as perfectly honed as he was.
She'd never seen a man so strong, and she couldn't imagine talking to him without remembering how beautiful that body was.
She'd sensed more danger from her father than from the man before her.
Sit your ass down, Linda said, planting her small form between them and physically pushing the man who towered over her.
So if you had come home and that man was there, you'd respect my privacy, right?
Sofia darted off the table, staring at him as he entered, trailed by Two and the man with green eyes.
Sofia jerked from her place beside her window, not sure which voice came from her head and which from the handsome man before her.
Sofia was afraid to ask where she was, who the man was before her.
Something about Damian, the man who made kiri cry.
Something about him made her feel comfortable, or she wouldn't be sitting alone with a man dressed like the angel of death on the beach after dark, revealing secrets she didn't tell her boyfriend of two years.
Something about the man made her feel safe, and the warm electricity in her body made her sleepy.
Sometimes I think you're not a nice man.
Sprinkled in the assortment of oldies were a few exceptions—two couples both named Dawkins, and Pumpkin Green, a young man taking a break from his cross country hike to California in support of the homeless, or so he claimed.
Talon brought in some man to see me.
Talon entered, followed by another man.
That man came in again this morning.
That man wanted to kill you.
That man will never bother you again, he said.
That was when she saw the man.
That young man has been in the water fight for years.
The armory was not the collection of a wealthy connoisseur; this was the personal armory of a man accustomed to killing often.
The black man, the passenger spotted in the stolen Buick, had been apprehended when he returned to the vehicle to retrieve his overnight satchel.
The blurry man lifted her other arm and bit into it.
The bones—there's a chance they belonged to a man who may have gotten a high school girl pregnant.
The clock was ticking on the young man's stay.
The conversation between her father and the man who should've killed her rattled around in her thoughts as she returned to the door.
The Darian he remembered had never been brooding or hesitant like this man.
The Dark One felt like a man.
The dead man was getting annoying.
The death visions, the distrust everyone on the planet had for a soul-reader, the inability to eat … they were nothing compared to helping a man find his soul again.
The door opened, and a different, blond man looked them over before stepping back.
The door was wrenched open, and a man pointed the gun at her.
The fat man spoke for the first time.
The first man was in his prime, and his eyes crinkled in a genuine smile when he clasped hands with Dustin.
The girl remained unconscious as the man drove away.
The hoard represented thousands of man hours yet all their efforts proved unsuccessful.
The large man in black with lopsided shoulders and an executioner's hood pressed himself into a corner.
The little man shook his bald head.
The low growl drew her attention behind her, where the red-eyed man materialized beside Damian.
The man approaching her had nearly reached her, and she huddled into a tighter ball.
The man at the hospital was built like Alex.
The man before her looked pretty human himself, with beautiful brown eyes and a body unlike any she'd seen before.
The man before her was from before time, before life, before everything.
The man before her was unwavering, and she had the impression of everything she was not and everything she needed to be whole.
The man beside her hesitated and then obeyed.
The man beside her was Vory.
The man gazing back at him was wiry and lean with angled features and swirling gold eyes.
The man grabbed her ankle and she kicked him with her other foot.
The man had a vindictive streak as wide as the valley, no doubt there.
The man had found him in the hospital.
The man hiding in the corner of her mind, he whose death plagued Damian for thousands of years.
The man in her head just wouldn't leave her alone.
The man in the corner of her mind stopped clawing at the edges of her thoughts and chose that moment to speak to her.
The man in the corner was tall with eyes that swirled gold like Damian's had.
The man in the executioner uniform dumped her onto a familiar surgical table in a room that stank of blood.
The man in the executioner's hood left while Jilian, the man with midnight hair and eyes, approached.
The man in whose arms she lay was not only her husband by Immortal and demon laws but the Dark One who turned her into a demon.
The man jerked the knife out and darted around Alex and out the door.
The man just nodded but didn't comment further.
The man looked like an ancient Greek prince with blond hair and chiseled features.
The man lumbered toward the door.
The man named Damian still watched her.
The man rose and came over to Dean's table.
The man standing in the weedy area of the lot was tall and thick, dressed in a trench coat, black clothing and heavy boots.
The man stepped out and those piercing blue eyes questioned her silently from under furrowed bows.
The man stretched out his legs in front of him.
The man took one peek at the bone and identified it as a left-hand pinkie.
The man was at the house when I left, but his truck wasn't there.
The man was in his prime with silver hair and dark eyes, a handsome face, and a body as muscular as Talon's.
The man was run down by a detective from After.
The man was there because Lori had sent him.
The man waved a knife at her, an evil smile on his lips.
The man who caused all this worry was still free.
The man who spoke snatched her arms from behind and shoved her into the kitchen.
The man with eyes the color of the moss in his room materialized from the shadows.
The man with green eyes leaned over to Two, whispering to him.
The man with green eyes was waiting for him in the hall and touched his arm.
The man with mossy eyes turned down a corner and vanished from his sight and thoughts.
The man with the green eyes was suddenly behind him, watching her.
The man with verdant eyes stood beside him, watching her.
The man, dressed in slacks and sport shirt, was entering the newly renovated Beaumont Hotel.
The man's arm came back and then forward in a jab.
The man's face was red with shame this time.
The middle-aged man with bright green eyes standing in his study looked harmless.
The mine sits on a few hundred acres old man Dawkins owned.
The mixed news produced a sense of relief that Martha was, according to Fred, temporarily safe, but she seethed at what she saw as Fitzgerald's vindictiveness at attacking them through the old man.
The monster in the corner of her mind was a man, shrouded in darkness.
The next morning she came in earlier, hoping to catch the man before he left.
The next time the man came to visit, they were supposed to tell him he couldn't see Alex unless Carmen was there.
The old man excused himself and followed Dean to the kitchen.
The old man looked concerned.
The old man looked defeated, with all his natural feistiness absent, left outside in the sunshine.
The old man looks at Howie like puss on a pudding and Howie doesn't know why; it's really tense.
The old man said nothing but shook his hand.
The old man sat crumpled in the grotto where Martha's bones had rested.
The old man sighed, looking every bit his age.
The old man smiled as he poured another drink.
The old man smiled as he stomped on the brake.
The old man was careful of privacy and territory and would take nothing without first asking.
The old man was still dressed in a dark suit after attending the funeral.
The only reason she could think of was that the man didn't want anyone to suspect him.
The phone rang more than a dozen times before a man with groggy voice answered.
The red headed man stood in front of her, lust in his eyes and smile.
The second traitor came soon after, a man whose past stunned her.
The sheriff won't be a happy man.
The small group moved more hurriedly now and the man said something to Betsy and shoved her forward toward an emergency exit.
The stocky man was hooded, wore a mask and was already in the room!
The three left for the school office; Betsy, with a slight smile on her face, Molly looking excited and Julie wondering if she was dead man walking.
The truth settled into the pit of her stomach, along with the realization that she meant what she'd said—she would do whatever it took to free the man she loved.
The words were familiar, the same words he'd spoken to Dusty thousands of years ago, when he'd discovered the youth who was not yet a man on a slave trader's block, bloodied and weeping for the family he'd just lost.
The words were too painful, and by the predatory stillness of the man across from her, she was terrified of what he'd do if she said it again.
The young man drew away from the table.
The young man rose and stormed to the library door.
The young man sulked in, humbled in hoops by high school star Billy Langstrom.
The young man's face paled even more, until he was as white as his bleached hair.
Their history was too personal for her to feel uncomfortable standing near-naked to a man who'd had a crush on her for a while.
Then again, he was a man, and he didn't pretend to understand a woman's mind.
There are numerous side roads but this is becoming a massive man hunt.
There must be some record of the man.
There was a large man's tee shirt lying on the floor and I hurriedly put it on.
There was a pause before the man on the other end answered.
There was only one thing that could make such a cold man so upset.
There were definitely two people in the car but he said one was a man.
They called him metal man.
They caught the man running through the buffalo pasture, with Brutus barking and nipping at his heels.
They reached a second foyer where the man in the trench stood next to a caramel-colored man covered in blood.
They still hadn't caught the red-headed man, but they had a regular patrol, so Carmen took Jonathan and Destiny home with her.
They were the kind of fangs a man fantasized about, not too large to cause damage but sharp enough to offer an exquisite combination of pleasure and pain if she nipped him.
This had to be the man her father warned her about!
This man's look was considering, as if he were trying to memorize her features in case he needed the information in the future.
This time, he wasn't a fever-riddled man incapable of defending her.
This was the kind of man whose depravity Darkyn preyed on.
Three men stood in the main foyer, two in the same shade of brown as her bodyguard and a striking man in designer jeans and an expensive sweater.
Tonight, she'd take comfort in the arms of the only man she ever loved.
Traci was alone with the man she recognized as Ving, who stood near the doorway.
Unable to be alone with the man in her head, she went to her library.
Unfortunately, in spite of her life saving efforts, the young man had already perished.
Unlike Logan, this man wouldn't hesitate or complain about holding her on the days when the pain was too much.
Ving—the man in the trench coat—looked at Sofia.
We used to go there to bail out the old man.
We'd better tell the old man he needs to get hopping.
Well, man up and do it in person.
What could this man possibly know that her father needed?
What remained in the darkened room was a beaten old man.
Whatever had happened, the man before her was hurting still, like she did when her father hit her.
Whatever the old man said, it elevated Cynthia's mood a few notches on the normalcy meter.
When the old man tried to engage him in further conversation—this time about Pumpkin Green and the general irresponsibility of today's youth—he excused himself on an important errand and left Westlake standing in the hall.
Where was he when your man spotted him?
Whether he was trying to escape or attack Alex was unclear, but Alex reached the door at the same time the man did.
While Dean had been at odds with the man since their first confrontation last January, it was Fitzgerald's venomous comments at the debate that led Dean to now believe him capable of almost anything.
While his form was large enough to be a man the size of Damian's Guardians, his voice was terrified and gravelly, as if he hadn't ever spoken to anyone.
While Howie hadn't viewed the show, he was incensed at the man's attitude as described by Martha.
Who could deny looking at those smooth bronzed features and delicious chocolate eyes that he was an unusually handsome man?
Why was it that anything dead was dead meat to a man?
Why was the man at the house?
With a frown, she wondered why she'd never seen it before, why she wasted seven years trying to make things work with someone who couldn't hold a candle to the man she was meant to be with.
With Fred's approval, he dashed up to the old man's room to fire up his computer and do so.
With his chiseled features and muscular frame, he was without a doubt the sexiest man she'd ever seen.
With one leg in my house and one leg out, my man Aldo Benitez shot him.
Without the scars, he was a darkly handsome man, his features heavy and masculine.
Xander didn't move like she expected a man his size to move.
You didn't find a man chained to the wall?
You probably never thought your father could kill a man before today.
You sound like my wife, but 'Any man's death diminishes me because I'm involved in mankind.'
You threw me out with nowhere to go after the man who was meant to be my husband was killed.
You're a good man, Darian.
You're a handsome man, Darian.
You're a truly remarkable man.
You're not a water sprite, and you're not afraid to be alone on a beach with a man you think murders people.
Yully cracked the door open, suspecting the man named Jule was there even before she flipped on the lights.
Yully kept her gaze on the man Jule battled until his back was to her.