Ben rubbed his muzzle over Kyle’s shoulder in a way that I think was supposed to be reassuring. Kyle sucked in a breath. Either it hurt, or the reminder that the werewolf was big enough to rub his shoulder without much effort wasn’t exactly reassuring. “Ben, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?” asked Kyle. Or else Ben’s breath was really bad.
Patricia BriggsCheeses crusty, got all musty, got damp on the stone of a peach,” I agreed. He looked blank, so I repeated it with proper emphasis. “ ChEEZ-zes crusty. Got Al -musty. Got DAMp on the StoneofapeaCH.
Patricia BriggsThe devout belief that the world is explainable is both a terrible vulnerability and a stout shield.
Patricia BriggsHis heart's occupied elsewhere," said Ben from behind me. "And even if it weren't he's not interested in your kind. But, I'm available and ready." "You don't have a heart," I told him.” Just a gaping hole where it should have been. " "All the more reason for you to give me yours. " I pounded my forehead against Warren 's back. "Tell me Ben's not flirting with me. " "Hey," said Ben sounding hurt. "I was talking cannibalism, not romance.
Patricia BriggsEven after all this time, I keep forgetting that heroes can be found in unlikely places and persons -- like mechanics who can turn into coyotes.
Patricia Briggs“Hey, Adam,” I said. “I thought you'd want to know that Warren and Darryl made it out of the vampire den alive.” I sucked in my breath. “You didn't actually agree to their meeting on Marsilia's grounds?” He laughed. “No, it just sounded better than saying they made it out of Denny's alive. It might not be romantic, but it's open all night and set in the middle of a brightly lit parking lot with no dark places for skulking parties to ambush from.”
Patricia BriggsDrink it,” I told her. “It’s good for what ails you. Caffeine and sugar. I don’t drink it, so I ran over to your house and stole the expensive stuff in your freezer. It shouldn’t be that bad. Samuel told me to make it strong and pour sugar into it. It should taste sort of like bitter syrup.” She gave me a smile smile, then a bigger one, and plugged her nose before she drank it down in one gulp. “Next time," she said in a hoarse voice, “I make the coffee.
Patricia Briggs