“Well, well, well. Tickle my Elmo ass silly.”

“The satisfying sound of bone giving way, as well as his outraged cry, made the you-had-it-coming-asshole angles sing.”

“Rhiannon's Law #68: If you're going to fly by the seat of your pants, rock out with your cock out. The landing is going to hurt either way, and you might as well make an impression when you nail it.”

“You have a lot to answer for, love. I can't decide if I want to take you to my bed and bust that perfect ass of yours or rip off your clothing and take you here and now against the wall.”

“Multitask? What do I look like, a fucking secretary?” My temper flared before I could bite it back. Erica wasn’t the only one with a big mouth. I was constantly in danger of writing checks my ass couldn’t cash, the bearer of a lifelong disease of potty mouth that no amount of soap in this world could properly cleanse.”

“Just because I’m on the lookout for an ass kicking doesn’t mean I’m actively seeking one out. It’s called covering all your bases.”

“Don’t tell me,” I snickered. “You’re in a club that gathers together like raving Trekkies to share secrets of the afterlife. I bet you even have an Enigma CD you crank up to get in the mood.” “Don’t be silly.” His face lit up with an enormous grin. “We listen to Enya, not Enigma.”