God, it was hot! Forget about frying an egg on the sidewalk; this kind of heat would fry an egg inside the chicken.

If Myrnin pokes his crazy head up before then, call me and try to keep him, you know, stable.' 'Is he UNstable?' 'I don't know, how can I tell? You're the crazy whisperer!' She had a point. Claire couldn't help but smile about that.

What do you think it is?" "It could be anything from a lawn trimmer to a bomb, for all I know." "I would never build a lawn trimmer," Myrnin said. "What did the lawn ever do to me?

What’s burning?” “Your brain.

I’m saying a prayer. Maybe you ought to, too. It’s going to take us a miracle to get through this.” Whether he was serious or not, Claire sent the prayer up toward heaven, and she thought the others did, too. So it seemed kind of miraculous when the doorbell rang. “At least they’re getting more polite when they try to kill us,” Shane said.

No way they could threaten him, not even with Amelie; he'd already given Amelie the finger on the way out of Morganville and he clearly wasn’t worried about her coming after him— or, if so, what would happen when she did.

She was poison in a pretty bottle.