What happened, then? You're stomping through every puddle you can find and look like you're going to punch the first person you see." "Why are you hanging around, then? Aren't you worried about getting hit?" "Aw, you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty

Fiery and sweet, all at the same time. A flame in the dark, lighting my way.

Maybe everyone else thinks your aversion to food is cute- but not me. I've watched you watch Jill. Here's some tough love: you will never, ever have her body. Ever. It's impossible. She's Moroi. You're human. That's biology. You have a great one, one that most humans would kill for- and you'd look even better if you put on a little weight. Five pounds would be a good start. Hide the ribs. Get a bigger bra size

Later, I would ask Shaya to help me compose a formal response to Katrice's letter, something a long the lines of "I am the Thorn Queen. F*** Off.

There was a look of woe on his face that was almost comical. Raids, bullets, criminals...no problem. A missing duster? Crisis.

And you work for that demon, right? The one who looks like Matthew Broderick?” “John Cusack,” I corrected. “He looks like John Cusack.” “Whatever.

I’m sorry ma’am,” I said. Really, I had no idea what else to say. I’d spent the weekend caught up in an epic battle to save humanity, and now… jean shorts?