" You're collecting pieces of me, aren't you?" His voice turned thick as warm toffee, rolling over her skin, heating it. "A bit here. A bit there. Soon you'll set me out on the table, to try and fit me back together."

Ignoring the flurries plaguing her belly, she affected blandness. "I've only got the corners. But it is a start."

A warm breath touched her neck. "I believe you have the centerpiece as well. "

― Kristen Callihan , Firelight (Darkest London, #1)