Abe's face came back into focus. "Greetings, Zmey," I said weakly. Somehow, him being here didn't surprise me. "Nice of you to slither on in." He shook his head, wearing a rueful smile. "I think you've outdone me when it comes to sneaking around dark corners. I thought you were on your way back to Montana." "Next time, make sure you write a few more details into your bargains. Or just pack me up and send me back to the U. S. For real." "Oh," he said, "that's exactly what I intend to do." He kept smiling as he said it, but somehow, I had a feeling he wasn't joking.
Richelle MeadSydney had been horrified to discover my home library consisted of a bartending dictionary and an old copy of Esquire, and at her pleading, I'd promised to read something more substantial. I was trying to think deep thoughts as I read Gatsby, but mostly I wanted to throw some parties.
Richelle MeadRight. As opposed to your cradle-robbing mentor. I don't really see you making much progress with him.
Richelle MeadโMa'am?โ She glanced up at me, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did. โHmm? Oh, I remember you. Miss Melbourne.โ โMelrose,โ I corrected. โAre you sure? I could've sworn you were named after someplace in Australia.โ โWell, my first name is Sydney,โ I said, not sure if I should be encouraging her.
Richelle Mead