Just reflecting on the fact that when the Universe punches you in the teeth, it never just lets you fall down. It kicks you in the ribs a couple of times and dumps mud on your head.

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

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

She can tell you the height of the attacker from the trigonometry of the blood spatter, while I'm fuzzy on what trigonometry is.

On the plus side, if he ever had to fight through a roomful of adolescent girls, he only needed to blink (his velvet brown eyes framed in embarassingly long lashes) a few times, and they would all faint.

Did I ever tell you that you are like sunshine in the middle of the night?

What do you do to your hair?" "Dust, hair gel, and a little gun oil." "Ever thought of patenting the recipe?" "No.