You sure you don’t want me to stay? I’ll make you coffee and ask you about your day.

When a lion stalks a herd, he sneaks in close, lies down, and surveys them to choose his victim. He takes his time. The deer or buffalo have no idea he’s near. He finds his prey and then he explodes from his hiding place and grabs it. Even if another, perfectly serviceable animal ends up within his reach, he isn’t going to alter his course. He has chosen, and he would rather go hungry than change his mind.

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

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

Let’s talk.” I pinned Red to his chair with my stare. I did deranged quite well, when the occasion required.

You sure you don’t want to kiss me good-bye, baby?

An evil spark flared in his eyes. "Trade: raccoon for some answers.