Drink 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.

Civilization is vastly overrated.

I would slay dragons for you,” he told her. “I suspect that finding an unoccupied bedroom will be easier.

Trouble seems to follow me around, waiting to club me with a tire iron.

He was like Superman, but with fangs and oddly impaired morals.

You are a sick, sick man,” I told him. “Thank you,” Ben replied, looking modest.

Mmm, he rumbled into my ear. I thought that being married meant that I never go to bed hungry.