Oh, I forgot to tell you," Cookie said. "Amber wants your dad to get a teriyaki machine so she can sing for all the lonely barflies." "I'm a good singer, mom." Only a twelve-year-old could make the word mom sound blasphemous. I leaned into Cookie, "Does she know its not called--?" "No," she whispered. "Are you gonna tell her?" "No. It's much funnier this way.

I love children, but I don't think I can eat a whole one.- Bumper sticker

...and then she glared at me, the same glare my stepmother used to give me when I gave her the Nazi salute. That woman was so touchy about her resemblance to Hitler.

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.

Dude,” I said, leaning over the desk, “I’m about as psychic as a carrot.

Give it up? Not likely. Besides, what else would I do? I totally should have gone to Hogwart's when I had the chance.

I was just passing by. Saw the commotion. Figured you were involved.