What are you?" I rasped. It smiled. "Whatever scares you.

My eyes widened at the ball of orange fluff squeezing out from under the counter, blinking and stretching. I looked again, not believing. “It’s a cat,” I said, winning the Pulitzer prize for incredible intellect.

Maybe he thinks he can rescue me? No one is that stupid.

I’d given up on the white picket fence after Kisten had died—finding out my kids would be demons was the nail in the coffin.

I turned back to the mirror, seeing that there were no lines on it. It was empty. "What happened to my mirror?" I said, bewildered. Then realizing that I was looking at the back of the dumb thing, I swore and turned it over.

Gaily, if you can't demonstrate the ability to keep her alive, then I will take over her care and get you a dog instead." - Newt

I thought Trent should get over his pixy paranoia and admit he had an eerie attraction to them, like every other pure-blood elf I’d met. So he liked pixies. I liked double-crunch ice cream, but you didn’t see me avoiding it in the grocery store.