“I like fish," chirruped Tunstell."Really, Mr. Tunstell? What is your preferred breed?""Well"--Tunstell hesitated--"you know, the um, ones that"--he made a swooping motion with both hands--"uh, swim.”

“Tunstell, this is your Alpha speaking. Do as I tell you. You must regurgitate now.Regurgitation is an involuntary action. You cannot simply order me to do it,” replied Tunstell in a small voice.“I most certainly can. Besides which, you are an actor.”Tunstell grimaced. “I’ve never had cause to vomit onstage.”

“Ever since her trip with Alexia to Scotland, Mrs. Tunstell had rather a taste for foreign travel. Alexia blamed it on the kilts.”

“...Tunstell was not what one could describe as call subtle. His flaming red hair bobbed up with each pointed and articulated footstep as though he were some cloaked Gothic villain creeping across a stage.”

“I mean to say, really, I am near to developing a neurosis - is there anyone around who doesn't want to study or kill me?"Floote raised a tentative hand."Ah, yes, thank you, Floote.""There is also Mrs Tunstell, madam," he offered hopefully, is if Ivy were some kind of consolation prize."I notice you don't mention my fair-weather husband.""I suspect, at this moment, madam, he probably wants to kill you."Alexia couldn't help smiling. "Good point.”

“In this particular instance, he stroked her hand fondly. There was no attraction in the movement. "Sweetling," he had once said, "you are at no more risk with me in that regard than you are in danger of me unexpectedly biting you--both being equal impossibilities. In the one case, I do not possess the necessary equipment upon contact, in the other case you do not.”

“Well, my love,” said Alexia with prodigious daring to Lord Maccon, “shall we?” The earl started to move forward and then stopped abruptly and looked down at her, not moving at all. “Am I?” “Are you what?” She peeked up at him through her tangled hair, pretending confusion. There was no possible way she was going to make this easy for him. “Your love?” “Well, you are a werewolf, Scottish, naked, and covered in blood, and I am still holding your hand.” He sighed in evident relief. “Good. That is settled, then.”