Granuaile looked terminally depressed when she emerged from the bathroom with raven hair and, as a result rather Goth by accident. She didn't want to get her picture taken. "Aughh!" she said miserably, looking in the vanity mirror in the truck of the cab and fingering a wavy curl near her temple. "This sucks more than anything has ever sucked before. You know what we look like? A couple of emo douche bags." "Well, look at the bright side, Granuaile. Emo Douche Bags would be a great band name." [That's brilliant! It's already the unofficial name of more bands than I can count.]
Kevin HearneThe widowโs eyebrows raised. โYeโve got all these nasty pooches to run around with and ye still might die?โ โIโm going to go fight with a god, some demons, and a coven of witches who all want to kill me,โ I said, โso itโs a distinct possibility.โ โAre yโgoinโ tโkill โem back?โ โIโd certainly like to.โ โAttaboy,โ the widow chuckled. โOff yโgo, then. Kill every last one oโ the bastards and call me in the morninโ.
Kevin Hearne