Shane? Thank God, somebody sane. Well, sane-ish.

Crosses?" "Definitely" "Why?" "Because they're evil, soulless, bloodsucking fiends?" "So was my sixth-grade gym teacher, but he wasn't afraid of a cross.

There is two feet of space between us, and about a mile of separation.

Another thing I don't want on my tombstone," Shane said. You have others?" Claire asked. He held up one finger. "I thought it wasn't loaded," Shane said. Second finger. "Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank." Third finger. "Killed over ice cream. Basically, any death that requires me to be stupid first.

Hey,” he said softly. He moved closer to the bars, pressing his face between them. “I always said you were jailbait, but this is ridiculous.

And by the way, showers. Look into them, Doug!

About how much sex I didn’t get? Go ahead.