“The safest day at the Melody is St. Paddy's," adds another Mardi Gras girl. "All the cops are out vomiting at the parade.”

“Do what you do. This Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, New Year's Eve, Twelfth Night, Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras, St. Paddy's Day, and every day henceforth. Just do what you do. Live out your life and your traditions on your own terms.If it offends others, so be it. That's their problem.”

“Rick said, "Is there some place we can go and talk?""You want to talk?," Keir raised an eyebrow. "I never thought I'd see the day.""Nah, I want to tell you this joke I heard."Keir nodded, patient. "Shoot.""Two Irish cops walk into a bar. The first cop says..." Rick's voice dropped. He said gruffly, "I love you. Come home."Keir managed to keep his voice steady. "What's the other cop say?"The sweetness of Rick's smile was like a kick in his chest. "That's what I'm here to find out, boyo.”

“Mardi Gras, baby. Mardi Gras. Time when all manner of weird shit cuts loose and parties down.”

“Cops before breakfast. Before coffee even. As if Mondays weren't bad enough.”

“It’s more believable that a cop would get involved in solving these murders. I mean, you’re talking about writing a series. How believable is it that this Hollywood gossip columnist is going to keep stumbling on all these murders?”

“...Jake, a homosexual cop buried so deep in the closet he didn't know where to look for himself.”