“Please don’t get sentimental,” said Jerome. “It’s nauseating.”

“Jerome shrugged. “We’re back to the part where I don’t give a fuck.”

“Mentor’s Official and Complete Procedural Handbook on Initial Succubus Intake and Probationary Period (Abridged).“Abridged?” I spun toward Jerome. “Tell me you’re getting back at me for the time I accused you of wearing Old Spice.”“That one’s still coming,” said the demon. “This one’s for real.”

“Do what? Come up with a clever pun referencing Jerome's demonic status? The truth is, I usually keep a stash of them on hand and—”

“God,” I moaned. “Do they use that stuff as rocket fuel?”“No one made you keep drinking it.”“Hey, don’t get preachy. Besides, I had to be polite.”“Sure,” she said.”

“Look who's calling the cauldron black.""Kettle. It’s a kettle. Get your metaphors right.""That wasn’t a metaphor. It was a, you know..." He stared off into space, blinking. "One of those things that’s symbolic of another thing. But isn’t the same thing. Just like it.""You mean a metaphor?""No! It’s like a story...like...a proverb! That’s it.""I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a proverb. Maybe it was an analogy.""I don’t think so.”

“Jerome sighed and set down his fork. "Are you still doing that, Georgie? Don't I suffer enough without having to endure the humiliation of a succubus who moonlights as a Christmas elf?" "You always said I should quit the bookstore and find something else to do," I reminded him."Yes, but that was because I thought you'd go on to do something respectable. Like become a stripper or the Mayor's mistress.”