He sounded harassed more than anything else, like mass home invasion was just something standing between him and morning coffee.

Promise me you’ll marry me. Not now. Someday. Because I need to know.” Claire felt a flutter inside, like a bird trying to fly, and a rush of heat that made her dizzy. And something else, something fragile as a soap bubble, and just as beautiful. Joy, in the middle of all this horror and heartbreak. “Yes,” she whispered back. “I promise.” And she kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, while the sun came up and bathed Morganville in one last, shining day.

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.

Rambo was a Green Beret," Hannah said. "Please. We eat those army boys for breakfast.

Shane settled his flamethrower more comfortably on his shoulders. “Ladies? After you.” “Rude,” Claire said. “I was being polite!” “Not when you have a flamethrower.

Oh, he is cute!” Shane said in a fake girly voice. “Gee, maybe we can ask him out!” “Shut up, you weasel. Claire, hit him!

It's an illusion, control," Naomi said. "You ought to understand that by now, young Claire. We are never in control of our destinies, even the strongest of us. All we can hope to do is not be too badly damaged by events.