“Slowly the reality of the situation sank in. He got his ass kicked, learned nothing, and got saved by a dumb dog and an old lady. If he lived long enough to report to Nancy back in Adrianglia, he would have to gloss over this part.”

“Rumors said that if he got drunk enough, he sometimes got his jollies by stripping naked and scaring hikers out in the Broken into thinking he was Bigfoot.”

“Marriage was a trap. The moment the man said the word “I do” at the altar, he surrendered his freedom. He was no longer free to pursue other women. Staying out past the appointed hour required his wife’s permission. Getting drunk with his friends resulted in a fight when he got home. He’d have to report where he went, when he would be back, who he would be with, and why he would choose to do something else rather than stay home and pick out fabric for new drapes. A married man was no longer carefree. He was a provider, a husband and a father. The castle was no longer his.”

“You think he's got 'government badass' tattooed on his chest?" I murmured.A faint grimace skewed Luther's mouth. "And 'I'd tell you but I'd have to kill you' on his ass.”

“Some people got vicious Dobermans. I got a shaved attack poodle in a black sweater. His tough, spawn-of-hell image had taken a fatal blow, but at least he would be warm.”

“I got a dog-training book. It says Grendel needs mental stimulation, so I tried to train him, but I think he must be retarded.”

“The phone rang. I picked it up. “Are you sitting down?” Curran's voice asked. “Yes.” “Good.” Click.I listened to the disconnect signal. If he wanted me to sit, then I'd stand. I got up. The chair got up with me and I ended up bent over my desk, with the chair stuck to my butt. I grabbed the edge of the chair and tried to pull it off. It remained stuck. I would murder him. Slowly. And I'd enjoy every second of it.”