I'm sorry? No more smooches is worse than the world ending?

Gordon Edgley's sudden death came as a shock to everyone - not least himself. One moment he was in his study, seven words into the twenty-fifth sentence of the final chapter of his new book, And the Darkness Rained upon Them, and the next he was dead. A tragic loss, his mind echoed numbly as he slipped away.

We may need to focus here.' 'Right. Yes. OK. Turn around.' 'Are you going to throw something at me?' 'What? No, I'm getting out of bed.

With his sunglasses gone and his scarf hanging down, there was no denying that he had no flesh, he had no skin, he had no eyes and he had no face. All he had was a skull for a head.

Then I reckon we got ourselves a good old-fashioned standoff." ... Nobody moved, or said anything, for the next few moments. "Old-fashioned standoffs are mighty borin

If anyone stops us, as long as we mumble something pretentious about the glory of death, we should be fine.

The workshop door opened and Skulduggery emerged. "Ryan," he said, "stop leaning on my car.