“Hello, Olympus! Aeolus, master of the winds here, with weather every twelve! We‘ll have a low-pressure system moving over Florida today, so expect milder temperatures since Demeter wishes to spare the citrus farmers!‖ He gestured at the blue screen, but when Jason checked the monitors, he saw that a digital image was being projected behind Aeolus, so it looked like he was standing in front of a U.S. map with animated smiley suns and frowny storm clouds. ―Along the eastern seaboard—oh, hold on.‖ He tapped his earpiece. ―Sorry, folks! Poseidon is angry with Miami today, so it looks like that Florida freeze is back on! Sorry, Demeter. Over in the Midwest, I‘m not sure what St. Louis did to offend Zeus, but you can expect winter storms! Boreas himself is being called down to punish the area with ice. Bad news, Missouri! No, wait. Hephaestus feels sorry for central Missouri, so you all will have much more moderate temperatures and sunny skies.”

“When did you get so smart?"He tapped his forehead. "Brain transplant. They put in a whale's. I'm passing all my classes with my eyes closed now, but I just can't get over this craving for krill." He shrugged. "And I feel sorry for the whale that got my brain. Probably swimming around Florida now trying to catch glimpses of girls in bikinis.”

“Sorry," I said..."Sorry for what?" He glanced over at me."For whatever I did wrong," I said."Did you do something?"I shrugged, "Why are you not talking to me?""I'm just driving." He moved his hand from the gearshift onto my leg. "Do you like snowmobiling?""I love it," I said.He shot me a look. "Have you ever gone snowmobiling before?""No," I said.He smiled. God, I hate his smile, I love it so much.”

“He opened the front door and Gwen said, “Lock?”He stopped immediately. “Yeah?” Did he have to sound so eager when he was the one making the decision to go? Damn him! “Uh…could you leave him here? He kind of comes with the place.” Frowning, Lock glanced down. “Oh, jeez!”Oh, jeez?“Sorry about that.” He immediately dropped the lion he’d dragged from the couch to the door, back to the couch, and back to the door. “Habit. Usually I bat my prey around until they stop fighting and drag them off to the brush to…well…you know.” He looked down at Mitch. “Sorry about that…uh…”“Mitch,” she told him. “Mitch. Right. Sorry about that, Mitch. And nice to meet you.”

“You be as angry as you need to be," she said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your grandma, not your dad, no one. And if you need to break things, then by God, you break them good and hard."He couldn't look at her. He just couldn't."And if, one day," she said, really crying now, "you look back and you feel bad for being so angry, if you feel bad for being so angry at me that you couldn't even speak to me, then you have to know, Conor, you have to know that it was okay. It was okay. That I knew. I know, okay? I know everything you need to tell me without you having to say it out loud. All right?" He still couldn't look at her. He couldn't raise his head, it felt so heavy. He was bent in two, like he was being torn right down through his middle.But he nodded.”

“She made a decision and forced out the words. “I’m sorry.”“For what?” he asked coolly, not even looking at her. “You dance as beautifully as anyone would expect.” “For being intolerably rude,” she persisted. “If that is how you see it.”He glanced down and raised a brow. “Is not that how you see it?” Amy kept a hold on her temper. “Perhaps. But chiefly, I was being honest.”“So was I.”“When?” she asked, confused. “When I called you a bitch.” He smiled and executed a particularly dizzy turn.”