The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires

I couldn’t have loved her more if she was my own child. But sometimes I considered shaving her eyebrows off while she slept. For the sake of developing her character.

I’m not one to say I told you so.” Jane sighed. “But I’ll sing it. I toooooold you soooooo!” She finished on one knee, fanning her fingers dramatically.

I don’t think I like that boy.” He growled, glaring for effect, just in case I hadn’t figured out his oh-so-subtle interpersonal cues. “He’s a sweet kid,” I insisted, folding the gray blazer over my arm. “He’s a teenage boy,” Cal said, his dark eyes narrowed. “They’re all sexual deviants under the surface. I should know. I was a teenage boy once.” “Thousands of years ago,” I countered. “Times may change, but testosterone does not.

You’ve got sex hair … or crazy cat lady hair. They’re remarkably similar.

I am willing to admit that Gerard Butler has single-handedly murdered the romantic comedy.” Gigi snickered. “Gerard Butler took the romantic comedy to an orgy, accidentally strangled it during an air game, panicked, and dumped its body in the woods.” I stared at her, gobsmacked. “That may be the funniest thing I've ever heard –” I spluttered. “How the hell do you even know what an air game is?” Gigi preened. “Just because you put the parental locks on HBO doesn’t mean I can’t get around them.

...I supplied in a tone so saccharine that it should have tipped him off that his testicular health was in serious peril.

Don’t tell them he’s upstairs , I commanded my brain. Tell them he moved to Pacoima to start a commune for vegetarian vampires. Tell them he’s looking into getting a sex-change operation and renaming himself Lulu Pleshette.

Sophie was a walking truth serum. If she was touching bare skin, she could yank the truth out of you like a loose tooth. I’d spent several unpleasant hours in her company during the Council’s screening process for humans who planned to work with vampires. That’s when I learned that you don’t refer to Buffy, the Winchesters, or even the Frog Brothers from The Lost Boys in front of Council officials. They do not have a sense of humor about that sort of entertainment.

How much to make her go to her room and stop talking to me?” Cal asked. While I gaped at his rudeness, Gigi coughed a rather obvious “douchebag!” into her fist. I caught her eye and shook my head emphatically. Douche-coughing someone with superhearing was not a responsible choice.

Ophelia was beating some poor underling for not knowing her arse from the sparse collection of cells between her ears.

I’ve raised her, just as much as my parents raised me. I’ve loved her, lost sleep worrying about her, taken care of her when she was sick, suffered through embarrassing but informative anatomical conversations. If that doesn’t make her mine, I don’t know what would. And at least I got to skip the messy-diaper-and-two-A.M.-feeding phase.

I know where the Iberian Peninsula is, Iris.” “I know, I know, you probably built the first road or furrowed the first wheat field ever sown there.” “Brat.” “Cradle robber.” “Grave robber.

The first rule of caring for a stray vampire: Don’t tell anyone you’re taking care of a stray vampire. —The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires

If you think you’ll have trouble standing that long, we could get you one of those shower chairs,” I offered. “You mean the kind that senior citizens fall off of, never to get back up?” “Um, yes.” “I’m willing to risk standing,” he said blandly.

Hindsight being what it is, I should have known to stay on my guard around someone who could use the word “lover” without shuddering in discomfort.

You are not the kind of woman a man loves once and then walks away from.” He stopped suddenly, staring at me, his eyes narrowed. “Did you just call me a ‘sex pirate’?

Where’s Mr. Wolfe when you need him?” I muttered, lifting him carefully onto the bed. “He hauled the bodies, cleaned up the mess, orchestrated embarrassing backyard prison shower scenarios … and I’m talking to myself … about Pulp Fiction, which is not a good sign.