The rabbis paled. I’d managed to terrify holy men. Maybe I could beat up a nun for an encore.

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

Shapeshifter parenting motto—if your kid slit somebody's throat, always have a backup plan to make the body disappear.

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.

George turned to her. His blue eyes widened. His lovely face took on a forlorn, deeply troubled expression. He leaned forwar, and, in a theatrical whisper, said, 'My past is tragic. I wouldn't want to burden you with it. It's a pain I must suffer alone. In the rain. In silence.

Are you out of your mind?" It's not polite to lie to your best friend. "It's a possibility.

Where is Arland?" "Rapunzel decided to walk around in the woods to get 'the feel of the battleground.' He won't leave the grounds and he promises to defend the inn with 'all the strength in his body.' I told him if he gets in trouble, he should try singing prettily so his woodland friends will come to the rescue. I don't think he got it.