He gave an impression of coiled power, a contained violence that if released, would explode with terrifying intensity.

It took a qualified wizard to detect a summoning in progress. It required only a half-literate idiot with a twitch of power and a dim idea of how to use it to attempt one. Before you knew it, a three-headed Slavonic god was wreaking havoc in downtown Atlanta, the skies were raining winged snakes, and SWAT was screaming for more ammo.

Whatever storm was brewing, I'd find it and fight it. If it was the price of being with Curran, then I would pay it. He was worth it.

And I meant to tell you: that was a one-in-a-thousand shot." She raised her hand. "Don't." "It was awesome," George confirmed. "It really was," Jack said. "His head exploded.

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

He stepped forward, took a deep breath, and doubled over in a sneezing fit. My werewolf was allergic to tortoises. Why me?

Her face looked like it would shatter any second.