“If you can fix my website by midnight, I will bake you more cookies than even Cookie Monster can imagine, and read you a bedtime story that is guaranteed to bring you sweet dreams." *some exclusions apply”

“I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.”

“I have cookies.”“Cookies?” My brows rose.“Yeah, and I made them. I’m quite the baker.” For some reason, I couldn’t picture that. “You baked cookies?”“I bake a lot of things, and I’m sure you’re dying to know all about those things. But tonight, it was chocolate and walnut cookies. They are the shit if I do say so myself.”

“Most people will find you much more attractive if you smell like freshly baked cookies rather than Lysol.”

“You can be miserable before you have a cookie and you can be miserable after you eat a cookie but you can't be miserable while you are eating a cookie.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to visit right now. Maybe you can come back later? I’ll bake you some cookies . . .” Okay, that was it. I hadn’t had a chance to use the kitchen for anything more elaborate than coffee and fried eggs, and I’d be damned if some invading monster was going to beat me to it. I stepped into the living room, bat still held in front of me like a poor man’s broadsword. “You are not using my kitchen.”