I'd never taken to four foot creatures who had the uncanny ability to point out all my flaws in thirty second flat. And just for the record, I can too read without moving my lips.
This place is like crazy on crackers.
No. This has to do with drugs." My jaw fell open and I almost lost my toothbrush. "You're on drugs?" She pressed her mouth together. "No. You are." "I'm on drugs?" I asked, stunned. I had no idea.
After a long, labored sigh, I said, “She was really happy when I got there. I’m pretty sure she was suicidal when I left.” “You do have that effect on people.
Mistakes were made. Others were blamed.
God I loved Sammy. I’d considered marrying him, but his wife got upset when I asked for his hand.
He had threatened my parents. I had to remember that. Still, it was really hard to stay mad at a wounded naked man.
I was never really certain why he scared the bejesus out of me. Nothing scared me growing up. I’ve been playing with dead people since the day I was born, so it’s good thing, yet the Big Bad scared me. Which brings me to the reason I called.” “Which was to give me nightmares for the rest of my life?” “Oh, no, that’s just a plus. Why was I so scared of him?” “Hon, for one thing he was this powerful, massive, black smokelike being.” “So, you’re saying I’m a racist?
You totally need to watch the news." "Can't." "Why?" "It's too depressing." "Right, because hanging with dead people isn't.
But, you're his son," I said, trying really hard to hate him. "You're the son of Satan. Literally." "And you are the stepdaughter of Denise Davidson." Wow. That was a bit harsh, but, "Okay, point taken.
For the first time in my life, I was in a shoot-out. A real, honest-to-goodness shoot-out with a bad guy. And, apparently, we both sucked.
Man, that woman was quick when she wanted to be. But put her behind the wheel of a Buick.
No, no, no, no, no. Anything but murder. Or rape. Or kidnapping. Or armed robbery. Or indecent exposure, ’cause that’s just creepy.
You’re the reason I breathe
I stood and walked around the desk so I could stand over him. Menacingly. Like Darth Vader, only with better lung capacity.
Who knew Demon Child would have such a normal name? I expected something exotic like Serena or Destiny or the Evil One That Comes in the Night to Make Us Chilly.
Come here often?' I asked instead, humoring no one but myself. So it was totally worth it.
Glitch was about as wild and unpredictable as a carrot stick.
That boy needs a hobby." "Stalking is a hobby." "So is serial killing.
You introduced me to Danger and Will Robinson, but you neglected to acquaint me with the other two.” “Fine,But you can’t make fun of their names. They’re very sensitive.” “I would never.” I pointed in the general vicinity of my left ovary, “This is Beam Me Up.” Then to my right. “And this is Scotty.
You were the one who hit me on the roof? I hit you on the jaw. We just happened to be on a roof at the time.
And," Amber said, practically drooling as she ogled him, "it's tradition for new arrivals to help with the pep rally." Brooklyn quirked her lips in doubt. "Tradition?" "It's a new tradition," Amber shot back. "Clearly the deeper meaning of the word has escaped you.
Least he's committed," I offered. "Or needs to be.
What did one say to a stalker? Um, pardon me, Mr.Stalker, but could you, like, not?
Man, I want to be someone's forbidden fruit." "Well, you are pretty fruity.
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