Now mayhap you quit givin Terrible the fuckin slurpy-eyes an give Bump the listening, yay? Thinkin you can? Gots some fuckin chattering wants doin, needs you fuckin head on straight up.

It was her problem, and she'd deal with it. Because dealing with personal problems was so fucking high on her list of skills.

His hands on the sides of her face, on her neck, holding her there. "Chessie...shit, Chessie, I love you so bad." His teeth on her throat, biting hard, his lips soothing the spot. "So fucking much, so...so bad.

She wasn’t considering it, not really….but he did have a point. It was her job. Save the cold, and the disgusting suggestion that she might actually turn a trick or two wasn’t a half bad idea. That was the problem with Bump. Despite the fact that he was practically a textbook villain – she expected him to grow a mustache to twirl any day- his ideas made sense.

With magic almost anything was possible; all objects had energy, and energy could be manipulated.

Her sigh felt dragged from the depths of her soul. Great. Working for Bump again.

Then again, she had-through a bizarre combination of skill, dumb luck and incredible misfortune-managed to build up a file any Debunker would envy.

Love was full of secrets. Love masked so many evils. Love controlled people, it lied to them, it made them believe things that weren’t true and it hid the truth from them. People said love was blind, but what they meant was that love blinded them. It made them more vulnerable than anything else could.And it felt so fucking good.

Thou mutters, Miss Putnam. Speak up.”Like she couldn’t hear. She’d hear Chess if Chess ran to the other end of the room, covered her mouth with her hands, and whispered “Fuck you,” but she couldn’t hear Chess standing four feet away from her.