What are you doing?” she cried in protest. “Playing,” he said, the single word rough, almost guttural.

You guys take over while I go put on a shirt." Mrs. Kulavich had edged close enough to hear him. She beamed at him. "Don't bother on my account," she said. "Sadie!" Mr. Kulavich said in rebuke. "Oh, hush, George! I'm old, not dead!" "I'll remind you of that the next time I want to watch the Playboy Channel," he growled.

I’m going to go," he said. "All right." He didn’t move. Then: "I don’t want to." "Do it anyway." He chuckled. "You’re a hard woman, Faith Devlin." "Hardy." "I didn’t know him. He isn’t real to me. Did you love him?" "Yes." But not the way I love you. Never like that.

Pleasure was a siren, luring her to experience more

Sweeney: I can just see all you tough young soldiers cuddling together. Richard: Not cuddling, huddling. There's a difference.

...We have seven people who knew the skewers were there: the wedding planner, the reception hall manager, the dressmaker, the florist, the veil-maker, the cake-maker, and the caterer. I haven't ruled out the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker, either.

The world was divided into two groups: those who showered at night, and those who showered in the morning.