The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges. "What are you doing?" Ghastek asked. "My hole puncher broke." "You have no respect for the undead.

It was the kind of sword that would make a lifelong pacifist look for tall boots and a hat with feathers.

Let’s talk.” I pinned Red to his chair with my stare. I did deranged quite well, when the occasion required.

On the other hand it was bad manners to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if you're getting it from an overweight cracker in a fringe shirt.

Crazy Curran ranked right up there with monsoons, tornadoes, earthquakes, and other natural disasters.

Shave that jaw, brush that hair, tone down the crazy in the eyes, and he would have to fight women off with that crossbow.

If my luck held, it wouldn't be a handsome Greek demigod looking for the love of his life or at least his love of a couple of hours.