You could say I'm on the troubleshooting squad." "Troubleshooting?" He put a hand on the back of his waistband. "I see trouble and I shoot it.

I don’t know. Just pick one.” “Well, there’s a lot of choice. I mean, you got your flavored, your ridged, your pre-lubed, your thin, your super-ultra-thin, your super-ultra-thin-pre-lubed, your…Huh.” “Huh what?” “Would you look at this?” he asked, examining a small box. “It says it glows in the dark.

He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

You love me?" He just looked at me for a moment. And then he reared back his head and laughed, a rich, mellow sound, unreserved and unashamed. " No, not at all. I regularly battle gods for women I dislike!

But you were Mine. My child. And I would not give you up.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching luxuriantly, delibrately letting my jacket fall open. Predictably, his eyes moved down my body-some things outlast even the change. I grinned and he looked away, a rueful smile twitching at his lips. I finished breakfast in peace.

To know Pritkin was to want to kill him, but so far I'd resisted temptation.