This, my children," Alistair said proudly, "was barbecue pork." Dan rapped his fingers against the latch. "Been out in the sun for a long time.

Rock star do not jump!" The launch was cutting sharply, its skipper calling out a phrase that bore no relationship to the English language as Amy knew it. "Rock star in a hurry!" Nellie replied, one foot on the boat's gunwale.

Let's scope the place out," he suggested, heading around the side of the building, "and be careful in the bushes." "Why?" Amy asked. "This is South Africa, dude," Dan replied. "Where cobras come from. And not the hot ones, like Ian.

Dan was heading for the blue car in the driveway. He tossed Amy the car keys. "Don't drive like you! Make it fast!

Trust is a fragile thing - difficult to build, easy to break. It cannot be bargained for. Only if it is freely given it can be expected in return

It's a token for the arcade games at Laser Sport Time!" Dan hissed. "Uncle Alistair doesn't think so," Amy murmured. "He's a numismatist." "He takes his clothes off in public?" Dan said.

Once apon a time, Ian's dark, dreamy eyes had made her melt inside. The angle of his head, the wrinkle in the left corner of his lip—they'd obsessed her. And he'd been obsessed right back. Now all Amy wanted to do was throw her shoe at the screen.