“Are you being a good boy for your mum?” Conor’s grandma pinched Conor’s cheeks so hard he swore she was going to draw blood.“He’s been very good, Ma,” Conor’s mother said, winking at him from behind his grandma, her favorite blue scarf tied around her head. “So there’s no need to inflict quite so much pain.”

“Conor O’Malley who wants to be punished,” Harry said, still stepping back, his eyes on Conor’s. “Conor O’Malley who needs to be punished. And why is that, Conor O’Malley? What secrets do you hide that are so terrible?”

“I knew it,” Conor grumbled. “These kinds of stories always have stupid princes falling in love.” He started walking back to the house. “I thought this was going to be good.”With one swift movement, the monster grabbed Conor’s ankles in a long, strong hand and flipped him upside down, holding him in mid-air so his T-shirt rucked up and his heartbeat thudded in his head.As I was saying, said the monster.”

“That man is such a damn turd monkey." "Grandma!" I said. "Oh, Zoeybird, did I call your mother's husband a damn turd monkey out loud?" "Yes, Grandma, you did." She looked at me, her dark eyes sparkling. "Good.”

“That man is such a damn turd monkey.""Grandma!" I said. "Oh, Zoeybird, did I just call your mother's husband a damn turd monkey out loud?""Yes, Grandma, you did."She looked at me, her dark eyes sparkling. "Good.”

“You love me,” he said slowly, wonderingly. Then with greater certainty, “By God, you love me.” His astonished laugh ended on a choked note as he snatched her hand. “So much,” she said huskily. Her fingers curled hard around his. “So very, very much.”