The Oracle rose. As one, the three witches bowed. "See?" Bran jerked his thumb at the three women. "That's how a woman should treat a man. Next time you see me, I want you to do just like them.

You’re the most experienced investigator I’ve got who’s not tied up in something, and I can’t ask the Consort to look look into it, because A) she and Curran are working on something else and B) when the Consort gets involved, half of the world blows up.

Some women waited for a night in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her.

And then what?" "I'll burn that bridge when I cross it.

You’re touching me,” I chided him. He caressed my back, sliding his hand down, hitting every sensitive point I hadn’t even known I had. “No, this is touching you. That was just accidental contact.” “Oh? Good to know. If you touch me again and I break your arm off, you can be sure it will be completely accidental.

The first rule of etiquette a boy learns when he's about to enter society is that civility is due to all women. No provocation, no matter how unjust and rudely delivered, can validate a man who fails to treat a woman with anything less than utmost courtesy." The boys hung on his every word. He glanced in her direction. "I have met some incredibly unpleasant women, and I have never failed in this duty. But I must admit: your sister may prove my undoing.

« He squeezed his hands into fists. I picked up a grapefruit-sized rock and handed it to him. It went flying. Home run, Beast Lord style.