I couldn’t leave Total behind.” “Total?” Iggy asked. “That’s what his card said,” Angel explained. “Totally a mutant dog who will probably turn on us and kill us in our sleep,” Fang said.

What kind of thoughtless creep would burn a book?

I took a bite of cookie and chewed. “Hmmm,” I said, trying not to spit crumbs. “Clear vanilla notes, too-sweet chocolate chips, distinct flavor of brown sugar. A decent cookie, not spectacular. Still, a good-hearted cookie, not pretentious.” I turned to Fang. “What say you?” “It’s fine.” Some people just don’t have what it takes to appreciate a cookie.

I want to do it too!" (sitting motionless) Nudge: "Nope, you stand out like a fart in a church." Max: (muttering) "Appropriately enough." Iggy: "What about me?" (stands still) Max: "No, you're visible." Iggy: "Am not!" Max: (throws a pinecone at him) "Could I do that if I wouldn't see you?

Sighing, she gave a brief nod. “I was supposed to win. I was supposed to finish you off. They never counted on you winning. And then you didn’t kill me. It was awful.” “You’re welcome,” I said, feeling fresh anger ignite. “I’ll try not to humiliate you by letting you live next time.” (Max II to Max)

Fang felt a cold jolt, then dismissed it. Max wasn’t dead. He would know, somehow. He would have felt it. The world still felt the same to him; therefore, Max was still in it.

Ultimately, a great thriller is a roller coaster ride. I like to think that's a promise I have never failed to keep, and one that I'd say has served my books well.