I'll call you," he repeated. "If you call me, I won't pick up the phone." "You will wait by the phone for my call, and when it rings, you will pick it up and you will speak to me in a civil manner. If you don't know how, ask someone.

I can't give you the white picket fence, and if I did, you'd set it on fire.

Perhaps I just wasn't scary enough. Maybe I should invest in some horns or fangs.

Barabas placed a stack on the table and held the chair out for me. “For you.” “I’m hungry and I don’t have time for this.” Barabas’s eyes held no mercy. “Make time, Alpha. You have two hands. You can eat and sign simultaneously.” Curran grinned. “Enjoying my suffering?” I asked. “I find it hilarious that you’ll run into a gunfight with nothing but your sword, but paperwork makes you panic.” Barabas put a thicker stack in front of him. “This is yours, m’lord.” Curran swore.

He kissed me, and I pulled my personal psycho into bed with me.

I wondered if kicking him in the head would make the whole explanation pop out of his mouth in one chunk.

I make a bad mom, but I can pull off a crazy aunt.