“A werewolf tossed me against a giant packing crate while I was trying to rescue a frightened young girl who'd been kidnapped by an evil witch and a drug lord.”

“In this dream, I wasn’t a coyote shapeshifter trying to hold a werewolf, I was Coyote’s almost daughter, and I had all the strength of the world in my arms.”

“One of my professors once told me that the last official act of the British monarchy was when Queen Victoria refused to sign a law that made same-sex acts illegal. It would have made me think more highly of her, except the reason she objected was because she didn’t believe women would do anything like that. Parliament rewrote the law so it was specific to men, and she signed it. A tribute to enlightenment, Queen Victoria was not. Neither, as I have observed before, are werewolf packs. ”

“Mercy," said my mother thoughtfully, "you never told me your werewolf neighbor was quite that hot.”

“Thank you, Adam,” I told him. “Thank you for tearing Tim into small Tim bits. Thank you for forcing me to drink one last cup of fairy bug-juice so I could have use of both of my arms. Thank you for being there, for putting up with me.” By that point I wasn’t laughing anymore. “Thank you for keeping me from being another of Stefan’s sheep—I’ll take pack over that any day. Thank you for making the tough calls, for giving me time.” I stood up and walked to him, leaning against him and pressing my face against his shoulder.“Thank you for loving me.”His arms closed around me, pressing flesh painfully hard against bone. Love hurts like that sometimes.”

“Some of the fae have an odd idea of bride send-offs," he explained "including, according to Zee, kidnapping." "I forgot about that." And I was appalled because I knew better. "Bran and Samuel are probably more of a danger than any of the fae," I told him. "Someday, I'll tell you about some of the more spectaculare wedding antics Samuel's told me about." Some of them made kidnapping look mild.”

“I don’t fool you, do I? Those others”—he waved a vague hand to indicate theirmissing comrades—“they think I’m all that—but you know better, don’t you.”“Know what?” she’d asked.He leaned forward, smelling of beer and cigarettes. “You know I’m a fraud. I canfeel the beast inside me, screaming to get out. And if I loose it, it will pull me up to greatness despite myself.”“So why not let it free?” She hadn’t been a werewolf then. The world had been a gentler place, the monsters safely in their closets, and she had been brave in her ignorance.His eyes were old and weary, his voice slurring a bit. “Because then everyone wouldsee,” he told her.“See what?”“Me.”