“Heswept the ears to the floor with his arm and heldthe last of his wine in the air. Something for yourpoetry, no? he said. Some of the ears on the floorcaught this scrap of his voice. Some of the ears onthe floor were pressed to the ground.”

“Love you, Tabby." Oh yes. I pressed the insides of my thighs to his hips, wrapped my arms tight around him, and whispered in his ear, "Love you too, Shy." His mouth moved below my ear and he murmured against my skin, "Everything to me.”

“Touch her,” he said in Scott’s ear, his voice low and threatening, “and it’ll be the biggest regret of your life.”

“This is all quite fascinating," Grimalkin said, his voice slurring in my ears, "but instead of posing and scratching the ground like rutting peacocks, perhaps you should look to the girl.”

“Another favorite position of his was sitting with his back to me, his rear half resting on the floor of the boat and his front half on the bench, his face buried into the stern, paws right next to his head, looking as if we were playing hide-and-seek and he were the one counting. In this position he tended to lie very still, with only the occasional twitching of his ears to indicate that he is not necessarily sleeping.”

“I missed his voice in my head, in my ears. I missed his face. His smile.”