I sort of got off on making bad guys sweat. Which was not unlike my love of making good guys sweat, just by very different means.

No, no, no, no, no. Anything but murder. Or rape. Or kidnapping. Or armed robbery. Or indecent exposure, ’cause that’s just creepy.

Garret Swopes was a lot like a hot gay friend only he wasn't gay, which was too bad because then I could tell him how hot he was without him getting the wrong idea.

You’re just using me for my body.” “You don’t have a body,” I’d remind him. “Throw that in my face.” “Technically, you don’t have a face either.

He's helped me a lot over the years." "I'm sure he has. You scratch his back. He scratches yours." "I have skin allergies. I'm itchy.

―You realize I can hear you without the annoying intercom. Cookie and I both leaned forward and looked at each other through the doorway. ―But this is more fun, I said. ―More Star Trekkie.

She looked at me, confused. “He hardly knew me. My parents dated and got married before we knew what happened. Let’s just say we were not brought into the loop on that decision.” “That’s weird. I wasn’t brought into the loop with my parents’ marriage either.” “Really? How old were you?” “Twelve months.” She giggled. “I can’t imagine why they didn’t ask your opinion.