“Trust your judgment, baby witch. No one else's. You've got good instincts for someone flakier than my mum's pie crust." (Leprechaun to Rachel)”

“Come on, Rachel!" Jenks shrilled. ou're a badass, not a bad witch!”

“Come on, Rachel!" Jenks shrilled. "You're a badass, not a bad witch!”

“Rachel isn't a lady," he said as he shut the drawer with a bang. "She's a witch, rhymes with bitch, randy and ready.”

“Your welcome means more to me, Ivy Alisha Tamwood, than a thousand souls. Watching Rachel work is a wonder of one catastrophe after another.”

“Rachel, my itchy witch," Al said as he tugged the lace at his cuffs. "We've talked about this. You simply must stop collecting nasty little men. How many do you really need, love?”

“Al was standing a bare three feet away, his mood almost jovial as he took the paper and it vanished in a wash of black sparkles. “Thank you, Rachel,” he said, carefully reaching for my hand as Trent stiffened. “Welcome back, my itchy witch.”