It a dude and a girl, and the house and wooo scary things happen and then they kill everything.

Curran is the Beast Lord. Tremble.

He kissed me, and I pulled my personal psycho into bed with me.

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away.

I'm secure enough in myself to wear panties with bows on them. Besides, they are comfy and soft." "I bet." He almost purred. I gulped.

I can make some calls. There is a guy. Dagfinn Heyerdahl. He used to be with Norse Heritage Foundation." Norse Heritage Foundation wasn't so much about heritage as it was about viking, in the most cliché sense of the world. They drank huge quantities of beer, they brawled, and they wore horned helmets despite all historical evidence to the contrary. "Used to be?" Curran asked. "They kicked him out for being drunk and violent." Curran blinked. "The Norse Heritage?" "Mhm." "Don't you have to be drunk and violent just to get in?" he asked. "Just how disorderly did he get?

Long strands of drool stretched from between his fangs and dripped on the pavement, sending a heady scent of jasmine to swirl through the air. Perfumed monster spit. What was the world coming to?