They tried to kill me,” he said, his brow furrowed as he glared at them. “You saw them!” “Yeah?” I spouted off. “They weren’t very good at it!” (Trent and Rachel)

Lately I’d begun carrying pain amulets in my bag, like some people have breath mints.

Rache,” he said, trying to get into my line of sight. “What more do you need? God to send a telegram?" (Jenks)

The undead did not love, but they remembered love with a savage loyalty.

You need a new hobby, Rachel. Something other than nasty little men with visions of world domination.

I wish I could say I write 9-5. It's usually more like 8-6, every day but the weekends.

We all watched Al open the door. Turning, he waved to us, then passed the threshold. The door shut behind him. I waited for something to happen. Nothing did. “This isn’t good,” Quen said. I choked back my burst of laughter, knowing it would come out sounding hysterical.