That’s an unfortunate place for a birthmark,” I said, more than a little unnerved that it was so similarly positioned to my own scar. Patch casually but noticeably slid his sleeve down over his wrist. “You’d prefer it someplace more private?” “I wouldn’t prefer it anywhere.” I wasn’t sure how this sounded and tried again. “I wouldn’t care if you didn’t have it at all.” I tried a third time. “I don’t care about your birthmark, period.

Arrogance can be deadly.

There was no sign of Jules. “Bad news,” said Elliot. “The man is sick. You’re going to have to settle for me.” “Sick?” Vee demanded. “How sick? What kind of excuse is sick?” “Sick as in it’s coming out both ends.” Vee scrunched her nose. “Too much information.

I couldn't picture myself with a boyfriend, but if I had to, I envisioned a nice normal guy who turned in his math homework on time and maybe even played rec baseball.

That's really eco-friendly of you," Vee told Marcie. "Recycling Nora's old trash.

That was a good fight back in the gym,” he said. “But I think you could benefit from a few more boxing lessons.

I looked to the window. Patch was gone, but a single black feather was pressed to the outer pane, held in place by last night's rain. Or Angel Magic