I muttered a swear word to myself. After I heard Angel cussing like a sailor when she stubbed her toe, my new resolution was to watch my language. All I needed was a six-year-old mutant with a potty mouth

That'd be just what I need: a rash of car thefts across America, committed by dedicated readers.

I’m not comfortable in this stadium,” I explained, trying to look calm. “I know. And you hate Fang looking at those girls. But we’re still having fun, and Fang still loves you, and you’ll still save the world. Okay?

I'm not a writer's writer. I'm not a craftsman. I could be, and that would be a one-book-a-year operation.

I led the way toward the crowd, trying to look casual, like, Fly? Me? Nah.

Iggy: "I'll grab a zebra; Gaz, you fill all the bubbles with your trademark scent. so people are choking and gagging; and let's throw beef jerky in their eyes! Now, that's a plan!

Yes. I owed my life, Angel's life, and my mother's life to a mutant's ability to create industrial-strength snot.