You don't have to shout from the mountaintops. Sometimes power comes in a soft, calm, compassionate way, like a quiet warrior.

Admitting that Katie had taken too much blood was on par with saying an adult human had pooped their pants or eaten their own boogers!

You gonna put on your big-girl panties and fight with the boys, now?” He looked over his shoulder as if he expected me to blush or something. “Who says I wear panties?” I was certain that he flushed red this time. Laughing, I left him shaking his head and went on inside to find the Kid. We had work to do.

Vamps who are dying, or think they are, give a piercing, eardrum-bursting shriek, like the love child of a screech owl and a mountain lion on crystal meth, amplified like a seventies rock band.

Alarm stole over me on little kitten feet.

You don't have to shout from the mountaintops. Sometimes power comes in a soft, calm, compassionate way, like a quiet warrior.

Chicken, yeah, that's me. I'd rather fight an old rogue-vamp in my underwear, with my bare hands, than deal with relationship problems.