Grandpa?" Declan raised his eyebrows. "We keep him in the shed out back," Jack said helpfully. "So he doesn't eat dog brains.

Is that a lion with horns and a pitchfork?" "Yep." "Is he carrying the moon on his pitchfork?" "Nope it's a pie.

Runes, runes, runes... Runes. An inverted Algiz rune. The caption next to it said “Chernobog.” The Black God. Right. Of course, it wouldn’t be Chernobog, God of Morning Dew on the Rose Petals, but a woman could always hope.

There was something very comforting about him, and I was not sure if it was his easy manner or his complete immunity to my scowling.

And did you have to hack his arms off?” “Yes, I did. He wouldn’t go through the door.” “You say it like you’re proud of it." I was proud of it. It was an example of quick thinking in a difficult situation.

Would you like to borrow a pair of my panties to wave around at the next Council meeting to get the point across?” His eyes flashed. “Got any to spare?” I could’ve picked somebody rational. But no, I had to fall in love with this arrogant idiot. Come to the Keep with me, be my princess. Mourn me when your crazy dad kills me. Yeah, right.

I gave him a smile. I was aiming for sweet, but he turned a shade paler and scooted a bit farther from me. Note to self: work more on sweet and less on psycho-killer.