The Sisters were Southern Baptist, and they went to church on Saturdays and Sundays, and most other days, too.

Maybe Ridley was like chicken pox; you could only catch it once.

Stupid to the power of stupid.

High school sucked. It was a universal truth, and whoever said these were supposed to be the best years of your life was probably drunk or delusional.

It was unbelievable. She was standing there, staring at him like he was a real rock star.

I watched for her hair to curl, the telltale Caster breeze. It didn't move. This wasn't Caster magic she was working. It was another kind altogether. She couldn't charm her way out from under Macon's watch. She would have to resort to older magic, stronger magic, the kind that had worked best on Macon from the time she first moved to Ravenwood. Plain old love.

Nothing in my life is a coincidence.