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.

Maybe I could be friends with a ghost. I wouldn’t be able to kill him.

Go to sleep, baby,Mama will sing. Of blue butterflies, and dragonfly wings. Moonlight and sunbeams, raiments so fine. Silver and gold, for baby of mine. Go to sleep, baby. Sister will tell, of wolves and of lambs, and demons who fell.-Pierce's Lullaby Kim Harrison (Black Magic Sanction)

See, this was why I liked coffee. You couldn’t screw up making coffee. Even the bad stuff was good.

Good Lord, I thought, squinting at the bright glare of a late-July morning. No wonder I slept through this. It was noisy with shrieking birds, and already hot.

I have a name,” I grumped, my stomach pinching me harder. “Yes, but it has no pizzazz. Ra-a-a-a-chel. Rach-e-e-e-eel,” he said, trying it out in different ways. “No one will tremble in terror at that. Oh my God!” he said in a high falsetto. “It’s Rachel! Run! Hide!

Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt some sort of dominance foreplay?