“Charis sipped, smiling back. "...I saw God everywhere."Grif narrowed his eyes. "Really?"She nodded and leaned close. "We were actually pen pals. I'd write Him letters in Latin and leave them in my closet.""Why the closet?"She shrugged. "Because He didn't appear after I set my front yard's bushes on fire, so I decided He was shy.”

“So. You're a fallen angel." She folded her arms."I'm not fallen," he said roughly."Then what are you?"He shrugged. "Busted.”

“Because you can't unknow your life's experiences,' Grif said. This was his area of expertise.”

“I didn't know his middle name or his favorite color, but I knew how his thoughts felt caressing my mind. The bright tang of his adrenaline coursing under my skin. The force of his heart, strong and rhythmic and a bit sad, pumping within my own chest.”

“Miss me?" he whispered, giving me the once-over, eyes lingering on my chest. My heart skipped a beat. My glyph pulsed painfully."Like a urinary tract infection," I said, through gritted teeth.”

“She needed facts. Facts were bricks. Maybe she could build herself a wall with them, too, one tall and wide and strong enough to keep her alive when he was gone.”

“I think you look like the spawn of Satan.""Yeah, and you still look like my brother's favorite blow-up doll.""Speaking of, what's the deal with the size of my breasts in last month's manual?" He'd drawn me so top heavy a stiff wind could have knocked me off balance."Creative license," he said with a shrug."A little too creative.”