Uh, yeah, I do. The scythe was a little tricky at first, but—much like golf—turns out it’s all in the swing.

Walking around nude in front of humans was not a good way to keep a low profile with the community. It was an excellent way to make new friends, though.

Some day soon, reaper, your mouth is going to be the source of your own destruction." "That does seem likely, doesn’t it?" Tod glanced at me and shrugged. "Until then, it remains a source of my own amusement.

I’m saying that I can wait. For now. But when things get back to normal—assuming that ever happens—I want my shot. We can make each other happy, Faythe. I know it. And I’m done walking away from things I want just because they don’t come easily. You’re worth the work.

Faythe…?" The tremor in his voice broke my heart. Then understanding surfaced, and his tear-filled eyes searched mine desperately. "No. No," he whispered through clenched teeth. "This was not wrong. It’s the only thing I’ve done right in months. Don’t you dare regret this.

I wanted more firsts with Tod. But all I had left was a handful of lasts.

Can’t clean up after you anymore, baby brother, so don’t punk out. Make it count.