“... I'd already shot a zombie. Maybe this smartmouth blue-eyed apple-pie boy would be next.”

“He was so close it was hard to breathe. It was exactly like being next to an oven baking a really spicy apple pie.”

“He smelled like smoke too, and under it was the edge of apple pies-spice and goodness. Jesus. Even after all that he smelled like a bakery.”

“Gee, thanks." I couldn't sound more sarcastic, but I was willing to give it a try. My breathing evened out. "What are you here for, then? Tea and cookies?" My mouth wanted to water. He smelled like cookies. Cinnamon ones, with dabs of apple-pie filling.”

“A Zombie. Okay. Whew. All right.”

“Maybe it was tact that made Benjamin sigh. He didn't roll his eyes or look pained, which was pretty damn magnanimous of him.”

“I crossed my arms over my chest. Jeez, it was cold in here all of a sudden. And had he always smelled this good? Was it a cologne? Eau de Christmas Pie?”