No, he just needs a moment," Curran said. "Young bouda males. Easily excitable.

I’d missed him so much, it almost hurt. It started the moment I left the Keep and nagged at me all day. Every day I had to fight with myself to keep from making up bullshit reasons to call the Keep so I could hear his voice. My only saving grace was that Curran wasn’t handling this whole mating thing any better. Yesterday he’d called me at the office claiming that he couldn’t find his socks. We talked for two hours.

The idiot had shot their own dog. That’s what happened when the destructive potential of a man’s weapons exceeded his intelligence.

Juke glanced into her cup before tipping it down to her mouth. "Screw you!" "Now come on, sugar, you know I don't swing that way." "Whatever!

Oh no, is it naked time?

Curran and I mixed about as well as glycerin and nitric acid: put us together, shake a bit, and hit the deck as we exploded.

Nobody ever died of being shot by a cookie.