There, close enough to spit on--if I'd been a barbarian and inclined to spit--was the dragon.

Giannine--What are they going to do: smack me on the head with a pamplet?

They'd poisoned me, dammit. Probably to trade my dead body to the barbarians for Wulfgar's safe return. Or maybe just for the fun of it.

People always talk about good, fresh country air, but I kept getting wiffs of something that was neither good nor fresh but definitely country.

There, close enough to spit on--if I'd been a barbarian and inclined to spit--was the dragon.

Those Grimm brothers," she said with a sigh, "they'll never amount to anything." And she was right because all they ever became was writers.

A [reformed] vampire ... mostly tries to make reparation for his previous evil by doing good deeds-most commonly, apparently, going into the crime solving business.