But his attention was all for my mother. “She’s married,” I warned him. “And if you call her a rude name, she’ll shoot you with her pretty pink gun and I’ll spit on your grave.” He considered me a moment and started to open his mouth. Adam said, “Ben. Meet Mercy’s mother, Margi.” Ben paled, closed his mouth, and opened it again. But nothing came out. I didn’t think Ben was used to meeting mothers.
-Patricia Briggs
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