I don't think most people take honest well. They prefer the games. They want to believe the pretty lies.

Jerome sighed and set down his fork. "Are you still doing that, Georgie? Don't I suffer enough without having to endure the humiliation of a succubus who moonlights as a Christmas elf?" "You always said I should quit the bookstore and find something else to do," I reminded him. "Yes, but that was because I thought you'd go on to do something respectable. Like become a stripper or the Mayor's mistress.

I lifted the lid and found a piece of bread and some water—and a rat that quickly darted off the tray. Talk about adding insult to injury.

And so, surpassing my own records for dangerous, reckless behavior, I ripped off Sonya's bracelet. "I'm Rose Hathaway.

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

How do you know it was the blighted pile? Did you recognize Maiwenn’s gift?” “No, but there was a marble bust of Dorian in there, which I figured must have been his kingdom’s ‘humble’ gift.

You make a joke out of everything. Life’s too painful not to.