If you come, you better come in force because I will kill every single one of you. My hand won't shake, my aim won't falter. My face will be the last thing you'll see before you die." I jammed my knife into the table and walked out.

My mind struggled to formulate a coherent though, any thought. I opened my mouth. "Your pajamas have Eeyore on them." "I like Eeyore. He's sensible. A sober outlook on life never hurt anyone.

Some men got excited by white lace and a translucent negligee. My love muffin got excited by a woman dressed to murder. There was probably something deeply twisted about that. Lucky for me, negligees were never my thing.

Some men were handsome. Some were powerful. Curran was...dangerous.

The monster licked his lips, long lines of whiskers twitching, and spoke in a deep growl. "Pretty, aren't I?" Curran. In midform. I broke from his gaze. "Adorable.

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

Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason I made them feel safe and they gravitated to me like iron shavings to a magnet. They ruined my ferocious badass image, but you'd have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.