she had given me a piece of what made her life sane.

She's not your type. Since when do I have a type?

How many mistakes can one life survive?

He wanted that again, that feeling of standing with her against all odds and succeeding. He wanted it so bad, he was going to risk destroying everything he and his father had worked for.

Jenks squinted at me, and when Trent nodded, the pixy gestured sourly to Bis to get on with it. A four inch man ruled us all.

God, it stinks,” I said, hand over my nose as he pulled me into a long step. Al strode forward, head high. “It’s the stench of bureaucracy, my itchy-witch, and why I chose to go into human resources when but a wee lad.

Puppy presents on the rug. This sucked.