“Is this your bedroom?" she asked, and turned to look at him. Myrnin straightened and jammed the big red floppy hat back on his head. The feathers waved back and forth."Don't get any ideas," he said. "I'm far too young and innocent for that kind of thinking.”

“Claire was struggling through last summer’s diary volume when Myrnin popped in through the portal, wearing a big floppy black hat and a kind of crazy/stylish pimp coat that covered him from neck to ankles, black leather gloves, and a black and silver walking stick with a dragon’s head on it. And, on his lapel was a button that said, If you can read this, thank a teacher.”

“So do you have a kilt?" Megan asked him. When I glared at her, she said, "What? He only said you couldn't ask." She looked at him. "So do you?"Straightening up, Zachary rubbed the back of his neck and smirked. "I might, I might."God, he was gorgeous. And Scottish. But maybe kind of an ass.”

“I took a step back."Here." He plunked his wet hat on my head. "Don't go anywhere," he told me, then turned away.”

“You don't look like a Rupert."Startled,he raised a black brow at her. "Dare I ask what I look like to you?""A hungry wolf."He didn't laugh at the description, but he did abruptly release her. "Wolf, perhaps," he said drily. "Hungry? Not at the moment."She had enough sense to guess she'd just been insulted. Had she touched a nerve perhaps? Good,because he was certainly touching too many of hers.Regaining her balance after stumbling back from him,she went to straighten her skirt in an indignant manner,but forgot she wasn't wearing one.How could she appear to be offended while she was wearing britches? She settled for grabbing the hat off the floor and shoving it back down on her head.The very idea! Not hungry at the moment? As if she didn't know he was implying she wasn't to his taste.”

“This looks good.""That's Metamucil," Bricker said with disgust, snatching it from her hand."So?" She turned to scowl at him. "What's wrong with Metamucil?""It's--" He glanced at the container and read, "A dietary supplement.""That sounds healthy," she said, trying to grab it back."Eshe," he said, his disgust giving way to amusement. "It's what old mortals take to get regular.""To get regular what?" she asked, and then poked him in the stomach, hard. The moment Bricker bent over with an "oomph," she snatched the container back and repeated, "Regular what?""Crap," he gasped, clutching his stomach. "I didn't hit you that hard," she said with some disgust of her own."No." He sighed, straightening. "I meant that's what they get regulated. Crap."Eshe dropped the can in dismay. "They buy crap?”