“I'd slept with Ranger! Not sexually, of course. But I'd been in his bed. And then there was the evil shower gel. "It was all because of the shower gel," I said. Morelli's eyes narrowed. "Shower gel?" I made a major effort not to sigh. "Long story. You probably don't want to hear it.”

“Ranger’s gonna hate this,” Tank said. “Better to get shot than to have to explain the gate. Bad enough I got a horse that smells like his shower gel.”

“He was a super shiny boy and I liked the shape of him. Under the blanket. In the shower. I liked his shadow on the street and his imprint on the sofa. I hated the smell of hair gel on his head, but I loved it on the pillow. I love the smell of losing someone.”

“He anxiously touched his hair. "I think my hair gel's frozen.”

“I didn't know what to do with this new reality, the horror of my conception. I wanted to bury it in the backyard, far away from anyone's eyes. My skin crawled with knowledge, with the evil that I'd looked into, that had created me. I took long showers. Nothing helped. The dirt was on the inside.”

“I want a shower the size of the Sydney Opera House, because you know damn well I sing in the shower. And I might as well make millions off my cleanliness.”