“What if it wasn't the guy from the bar? What if it was some freak out looking to whack some chick off because his mommy didn't make him buttered toast and cut it into fun shapes when he was a kid?”

“Nina chuckled, giving Katie her infamous devilish grin. "It means you aren't just a werecougar, lady. You're a cougar-cougar. You took stereotyping to a whole 'nother level. You're like one of those 'doesn't look her age' chicks who hits on young dudes because they got the zoom in their boom still happening. You're a total label. Hot. Niiiice work, Mrs. Robinson.”

“Yeah, but that didn't mean he didn't like fistfuls of blondeness with legs longer than a Celine Dion note, now, did it?”

“Her mental list of items she’d need from her apartment was growing. There were things a girl just couldn’t live without, so Keegan would have to get them when he retrieved Muffin. “I need another purse. Can you get me my Prada knockoff? It’s in my closet on the shelf. Pink. It’s pink. I got it from a vendor in Manhattan. Jeez he was a tough negotiator, but it was worth the haggling. It’s soooo cute.”Keegan sighed, raspy and long. “Okay.”“Oh! And my nail polish. I have two new bottles in the bathroom under the sink in one of those cute organizer baskets, you know? Like the ones you get at Bed Bath and Beyond? God, I love those. Anyway, I need Retro Red and Winsome Wisteria.”Another sigh followed, and then a nod of consent.“My moisturizer. I never go anywhere, not even overnight, without my moisturizer. Not that I ever really go anywhere, but anyway I need it, or my skin will dehydrate and it could just be ugly. Top left side of my medicine cabinet.”“Er, okay.”“My shoes. I can’t be without shoes. Let’s see. I need my tennis shoes and my white sandals, because I don’t think there’s much hope for these, wouldn’t you say?” Marty looked up at him and saw impatience written all over his face. “And my laptop. I can’t check on my clients without my laptop, and they need me. Plus, there’s that no-good bitch Linda Fisher. I have to watch that she’s not stealing my accounts. Do you have all of that?”He gave her that stern look again. The one that made her insides skedaddle around even if it was meant in reproach. “I’m going too far, huh?”His smile was crooked. “Just a smidge.”

“So he was good-looking and he had a great set of thighs. Chickens had nice thighs, too.”

“Who was Greg and why was he biting Nina? In fact, how did he get close enough to Nina in order to bite her before she bit him first?”

“Expiring? Excommunicated? No. Nina'd said expunging. Yes. He was going to expunge in a roomful of angry, perfumed, supernatural females while Nina tore Phoebe limb from limb and he wore a dress. How inhumane.”