Shane, honey, in Morganville, friends are the only things that keep you alive.

Want to play baseball?’” she asked. Shane’s eyes opened, and he stopped stroking her hair. “What?’” “First base,’” she said. “You’re already there.’” “I’m not running the bases.’” “Well, you could at least steal second.’” “Jeez, Claire. I used to distract myself with sports stats at times like these, but now you’ve gone and ruined it.

I paused in the act of opening the door and looked at him with what were probably cartoon-wide eyes. "Wait a second," I said. "So, you're best friends with a hot vampire chick who likes leather." "Yeah." "And together, you fight crime?" I couldn't help it. I cracked up.

Shut up!" Eve yelled from somewhere upstairs. "Jackass!" "You know, when people say that, I just hear the word awesome.

Michael patted him on the shoulder. “I like this plan,” he said. “You and Eve, picking up cake and flowers, and you can’t even say a word. Should be tons of fun.” Shane almost choked, and gave Michael a sideways glare. Michael sent him a hundred-watt smile in return—no fangs, which was probably for the best.

Sure. Knock yourself out. No, really. Hammer to the head, works every time.” Claire

Why was it the hot mean girls always ran in packs, like hyenas?