For one week, all I could think about was drinking margaritas--well, that and running my tongue along Reyes's teeth--but I didn't have salt--or Reyes's teeth. I'd also lacked the energy to leave my apartment to get some--or the desire to stoop low enough to beg Reyes to let me lick his teeth after what he did--so I could only wish for a margarita. And dream of Reyes's teeth. I'd secretly hoped a margarita would magically appear in my hand, but that would mean I would have to put down the remote, and God knew that was not going to happen.

He had given me so much information, I wanted some time to absorb it all, but I didn't want to leave him. Not like this. Not ever, as long as I lived. Or until I had to get back on the case. Whichever came first.

Looks like macho boy's cool just melted like a Slush Puppie in August.

You introduced me to Danger and Will Robinson, but you neglected to acquaint me with the other two.” “Fine,But you can’t make fun of their names. They’re very sensitive.” “I would never.” I pointed in the general vicinity of my left ovary, “This is Beam Me Up.” Then to my right. “And this is Scotty.

You can’t have him, okay,” she said from behind the wire barrier. “Mm-hmm,” I whispered. “This is certainly a beautiful neighborhood.” “Yeah, I guess.” “I will scratch those eyes out of your ugly head.

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.

I chose the road less traveled. Now I'm lost.