Had he expected me to hump her leg?

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?

Where is Barbie?" The female shifter snickered and choked it off. "Is there a stripper pole?

It was the kind of place you went when your earthly troubles became too much for you and you were looking for a creative way to commit suicide.

Were you watching me sleep? Because I thought we agreed that's creepy.

Rene looked at Grendel. “What in the world is that?” “That’s our mutant attack poodle,” I told her. “Is he chewing on a gun?

Curran grinned and my heart made a little jump. I didn’t expect that. “That’s it? That’s your witty comeback?” “Yep.” Eloquence ’R’ Us. When in trouble, keep it monosyllabic—safer that way.