Obstreperous, ‘huh,” said Tad. “I see you’ve been using that Big Word of the Day calendar I got you last Christmas.” “That is irrefragable,” I told him solemnly.

What would a racist call werewolves? Wargs? She kind of liked that one, but suspected that racist bastards didn't read Tolkien.

Mine. He was mine, and not even death would take him from me—not if I could help it.

It Wasn't Hard To Follow The Scent Of Blood To The Living Room Where The Fae Had Been Killed. It Had Been A Violent Death, Perfect For Creating Ghosts.

Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Adam asked as we went back upstairs. “Sometime,” I told him. “When we're telling ghost stories around a campfire, and I want to scare you.

People will do amazing things to ensure their survival.

Let's save tomorrow's troubles for tomorrow.