Her imagination painted Georgie twenty years later, sitting in leg irons before some Broken psychiatrist. "Well, you see, it all started with bubbles.

My mind struggled to formulate a coherent though, any thought. I opened my mouth. "Your pajamas have Eeyore on them." "I like Eeyore. He's sensible. A sober outlook on life never hurt anyone.

Aha," Andrea said. "I'm going to ignore that you just referred to yourself as 'sugar woogums'.

You will tell me what you know now," he said. "Or?" He said nothing, so I elaborated. "See, this kind of threat usually has an 'or' attached to it. Or an 'and'. 'Tell me and I'll allow you to live' or something like that.

On a scale from one to ten, the Pack was eleven and everything else a one.

A girl half my age swept by and slammed two giant tankard filled with beer on the table. Ragnvald held his up. I smashed my tankard against his. Beer splashed. We raised the tankard and pretended to take much bigger gulps than we did.

Sometimes, when you crave certain feelings, you'll trick yourself into thinking the other person is something other than what he apears.