I fell asleep to the scent of my wolf. Pine needles, cold rain, earthy perfume, coarse bristles on my face.

Wow, you're never allowed to sleep late again. You're crankier than a fat guy in stilettos.

Blue was awfully fond of her father, considering she'd never met him.

I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look. "For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon." "Poor thing," I said. "It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly. "Shut up," Sam said pleasantly.

I can't tell the difference," I said. "Between not fighting and giving up.

Shouldn't you be looking at other cars? You know, car shopping usually involves ... shopping." "I don't shop very well", Grace said. "I just see what I need and get it.

For a second, he was still, blinking. Then he shook off all the blankets and coats so that his arms were free and he wrapped them around me as tightly as he could. I felt him shuddering, shuddering against me as he buried his face in my hair. I said, uselessly, "Sam, don't go." Sam cupped my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were yellow, sad, wolf, mine. "These stay the same. Remember that when you look at me. Remember it's me. Please."" — Grace and Sam (Shiver)