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

The rule of the Morrell family was over, and Richard owned a used-car lot and Monica worked at a nail salon, until one day she got run over by a bus. Very sad.

I Promise," Shane said. "You'd better, jerkface," Eve said. "How's the head?" "Taped. It's fine, chicks dig scars. Wait, did you just call me jerkface? Are we back in grade school?" "I love you," Eve said. He closed his moth, fast, because obviously that was not what he'd expected. "I, uh, okay, love you too. Can we stop that? It's uncomfortable." "Jerkface." "Much better.

CLAIRE:your washing right? shane:i'll pay you for it. claire:what? shane:best high score wins claire:no bet 'wash, dish boy

I wrestled futilely, then relaxed as a vine wrapped three times around my throat and squeezed. Right," I choked out, and shut my eyes. "I'll wait here, then.

And that, Claire thought, was why Morley had been right about this, even if he was a complete vampire about it. You had to save what you could. Amelie had understood that all along, Claire realized. That was why Morganville existed. Because you had to try.

Ah, Morganville. Where dressing to hide bloodstains was just good daily planning.