Suspicion infused Alex's voice. "Okay? That's it?"I looked back at him and smiled. "That's it. We disagree. It's done. We'll deal with whatever comes next."He stood up, brows lowered over squinty eyes. "Did Lafitte ply you with brandy, or have the body snatchers been here?

I would say Randolph's a horse's ass, but that would be unfair to the horse.

There was a bounty on my head, it was four days before Christmas, and I was having turtle gumbo with a merman, an undead pirate king, two loups-garou, and my best friend - a human pregnant with the half-elven child who had unknowingly helped set this whole debacle in motion. Plus a newbie vampire who didn't like the smell of food anymore.

We needed to get out of Barataria before all of us became alcohol-dependent.

You must not have carnal relations with this elf, Drusilla.

I’d been born on Mardi Gras; I hoped I didn’t die on it as well.

We should easily be home by eleven. Unless, of course, we were dead.

How come I’m always shopping for chicks and babies?

This is beautiful." Eugenie ran her fingers along a massive mahogany sideboard, on the top of which rested a red velvet sash with fine embroidery on it and, on top of the sash, a silver dagger. That little vignette was Jean Lafitte in a nutshell. Refined gentleman and renegade. Velvet and violence.