" Somehow, despite avoiding this feeling for nearly two hundred and fifty years, he was no head-over-heels for a prissy murdering half-breed who hated the sight of him and snored. If this wasn’t repayment for his many sins, he didn’t know what was.
…
He’d tell her none of it … The rest would have to wait until she looked at him and saw a man instead of a monster…and looked at herself and saw a woman instead of a sin to atone for. "
― Jeaniene Frost , The Other Half of the Grave (Night Huntress, #1.1)