I Never Read Detective Novels. I Started

Fang," I Said, My Voice Breaking. "just Live, Okay? Live And Be Okay." With No Warning, I Leaned Down And Kissed His Mouth, Just Like That. "ow," He Said, Touching His Split Lip, Then He And I Stared At Each Other In Shock.

Fang And I Searched In Every Way We Could Think Of And Found A Million Institutes Of One Kind Or Another, In Manhattan And Throughout New York State, But None Of Them Seemed Promising. My Favorite? The Institute For Realizing Your Pet's Inner Potential. Anyone Who Can Explain That To Me, Drop A Line.

When Did They Start Coming After You?” “was It—was It After The Oil- Slick Hummer Crash?” The Gasman Asked Iggy Tentatively. My Eyes Widened. Oil-slick Hummer Crash? Iggy Rubbed His Chin, Thinking. “or Maybe It Was More---after The Bomb,” The Gasman Said In A Low Voice, Looking Down. “i Think It Was The Bomb,” Iggy Agreed. “that Definitely Seemed To Tick Them Off.” “bomb?” I Asked Incredulously.

You Can Call Me Agent Mickelson,' He Told Me With A Smile. 'what About You? Is Max Short For Something? Maxine?' 'no, Dean. It's Just Max.

He Grinned At Me So Unexpectedly I Forgot To Flap For A Second And Dropped Several Feet. "you Looove Me," He Crooned Smugly. Holding His Arms Out Wide, He Added, "you Love Me This Much.