“Chocolate says "I'm sorry" so much better than words.”

“I'm sorry about the trouble, Karen," he said, loud and clear, so everyone could hear how reasonable he was being.She scowled up at him, eyes narrowed. Her arm flew almost faster than I could see. The smack of flesh against flesh was loud in the silence, and a small red handprint stood out starkly on his left cheek. "You have no idea how sorry you're going to be.”

“So, 'reaper' is really just a nice word for 'covert pervert?' Is that what you're saying?”

“I should have said something. ... But my mouth wouldn't open, and the longer I stood there in silence, the better I can to understand the problem. It wasn't that I had nothing to say to him. It was that I had too much to say.”

“Why do I always have to be the one who says 'stop'?" I demanded, my voice little more than a moan."You don't. In fact, at this point I'm considering a petition to that word stricken from the English language." His grin was almost lazy, the gleam in his eyes an effortless challenge. "If I did, would you sign?”

“Emma and I had both died twice, and for me, that second one actually stuck. Now I was a "resurrected American," better known, in colloquial terms, as life-challenged. Or undead. Or the living dead. But I'm not a zombie. I'm just a little less alive than your average high school junior.”

“My pulse whooshed in my ears so fast I could barely hear myself speak. “I only have—”“Two days.” He squeezed my hand. “So what? You can spend them feeling sorry for yourself, or you can let me help make them the best two daysof your life, and my afterlife. So what’s it gonna be?”I stared into his eyes, like I’d never seen him before. And I hadn’t—not like this. But he’d obviously seen me, better than anyone else ever had.“Well?” Tod watched me, his hand still warm in mine.In answer, I leaned forward and kissed him again.”