Wanna spot me?" "No thanks. How about I just scream verbal encouragements at you?

Oh, I don't know. I might grow on you." She furrowed her pretty eyebrows. "Like a cancer?" "Like a favorite vice.

A girl half my age swept by and slammed two giant tankard filled with beer on the table. Ragnvald held his up. I smashed my tankard against his. Beer splashed. We raised the tankard and pretended to take much bigger gulps than we did.

For a second I thought I might actually be alive," I said, looking at Nick's unshaven face. "Now I know- I've gone to Hell and you're my nursemaid.

People think I built the Pack, because I'm the guy who has the welfare of all shapeshifters in mind. They're wrong. Everything I built, I did so that when I mate and have children, nobody can touch my family. (...) I built all this so I can protect you.

Tall, with skin the color of rich coffee, and dressed all in black, Jim looked like he was carved from a block of solid muscle. Logic said that at some point he must've been a baby and then a child, but looking at him one was almost convinced that some deity touched the ground with its scepter and proclaimed, "There shall be a badass," and Jim sprung into existence, fully formed, complete with clothes, and ready for action.

You say the sweetest things. And that spaghetti perfume you're wearing is to die for. No hobo could resist." She snarled. Heh.