Actually, Justina, I didn't just ring you to chat about what an undead murderer I was...right, degenerate whore as well. Did I ever tell you my mum was one? No? Oh, blimey, I come from a long line of whores, in fact..."I sucked in a breath as Bones divulged yet another tidbit about his past to my mother, who must be frothing at the mouth by now."...called to give you the good news. I asked your daughter to marry me and she accepted. Congratulations, I will officially be your son-in-law. Now, do you want me to call you Mum straightaway, or wait until after the wedding?"I flew through the air in a dive that finally tackled him, wrenching the phone away. Bones was laughing so hard, he had to breathe to get it all out."Mom? Are you there? Mom...?""You might want to give her a moment, Kitten. I believe she fainted.

Louis found me in the rear parlor, the one more distant from the noises of the tourists in the Rue Royale, and with its windows open to the courtyard below. I was in fact looking out the window, looking for the cat again, though I didn't tell myself so, and observing how our bougainvillea had all but covered the high walls that enclosed us and kept us safe from the rest of the world. The wisteria was also fierce in its growth, even reaching out from the brick walls to the railing of the rear balcony and finding its way up to the roof. I could never quite take for granted the lush flowers of New Orleans. Indeed, they filled me with happiness whenever I stopped to really look at them and surrender to their fragrance, as though I still had the right to do so, as though I still were part of nature, as though I were still a mortal man.

The Cat and the Moon The cat went here and thereAnd the moon spun round like a top,And the nearest kin of the moon,The creeping cat, looked up.Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,For, wander and wail as he would,The pure cold light in the skyTroubled his animal blood.Minnaloushe runs in the grassLifting his delicate feet.Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?When two close kindred meet,What better than call a dance?Maybe the moon may learn,Tired of that courtly fashion,A new dance turn.Minnaloushe creeps through the grassFrom moonlit place to place,The sacred moon overheadHas taken a new phase.Does Minnaloushe know that his pupilsWill pass from change to change,And that from round to crescent,From crescent to round they range?Minnaloushe creeps through the grassAlone, important and wise,And lifts to the changing moonHis changing eyes.

You're not paying attention to me, are you?""Eh? What's that? Sorry, love, I didn't hear you. Wasn't paying attention. I had my eyes on your perfectly formed arse."Catherine fixed him with a glare worthy of a Scottish schoolmaster. "This is serious business Jamie. If you've to pass for a Highlander, you've got to get the kilt just so,""Bah! You're a hoydenish vixen. You just want to ogle my knees.""Nonsense. I'm sure you'll find the ah... freedom and... utility very appealing once you try it on.""You mean you think I'll like the feel of the family jewels waving free?" Blushing, she spread both great kilts on the ground. "One lays down on it like so. Oh stop grinning, Jamie, and do try."She was so earnest and eager in her lesson that he hadn't the heart to tell her he'd worn a kilt a time or two before.

Dear Disney Cruise Line,I would very much like to go on one of your cruises, but I have certain accommodations that need to be made before I book my trip. I need a room large enough to comfortably fit a king-size bed, as well as a king (Juan Carlos of Spain). Juan is afraid of people and will only come aboard incognito. He will be arriving in the costume of a small cat and answers to the pseudonym of “Mr. Fizzlebush.” He will need his litter box changed daily, the finest dry cat food, and fourteen bottles of your finest champagne (he is royalty, after all). His Majesty Juan Carlos is not to be touched, but should he decide to lick a crew member’s face, he or she will be expected to kneel and grovel at His Majesty’s paws. I hope you won’t turn your back on a royal customer.We look forward to sailing with you soon.Thank you,Jarod Kintz

You once told me you could stand many things.” My voice was raspy from all the emotions battering against those well-honed inner defenses.“So can I. I can stand whatever Apollyon dishes out, can take the bigotry from others over what I am, the freaky ghost juju from Marie, all thecraziness my mother can throw at me, and even the pain of my uncle dying. But the one thing that I would never, ever recover from would be losingyou. You made me promise before to go on if that happened, but Bones”—here my words broke and tears spilled down my cheeks—“I wouldn’twant to.”He’d been near the side of the bed when I started talking, but was in my arms before the first tear fell. Very softly, his lips brushed over those wetstreaks, coming back pink from the drops still shimmering on them.“No matter what happens, you will never lose me,” he whispered. “I am forever yours, Kitten, in this life or the next.

I love you, Catherine. You claimed my heart soon after we met, a beautiful Highland selkie who kept me safe within her cave. No one ever came to my rescue before. I laughed and I teased you, but I'd never been so deeply moved. While I was waiting at The Hague, I promised myself I'd tell you as soon as I saw you again." He wet a taut nipple with his tongue and blew on it gently. "It made me very happy to admit it. You're the only one I've ever truly loved." He turned his attention to the other tip, one hand plumping her as the other tickled its peak. She whimpered and he soothed her with a wet kiss. She moaned, gripping his shoulders as her heels dug in the ground. He lifted hishead and looked straight into her eyes. "I feared I'd lost you when I saw you in that river. You're the only thing that gives my life meaning, Catherine. I love you." His lips brushed the corner of her mouth. "I love you," he breathed against her lips. "I love you!" He enfolded her in his arms andthrust his tongue deep in her mouth, claiming her in a voluptuous kiss.

Ah, mistress, you’re an angel. Sure there’s not a drop left? I might have remembered one more person….”“Up yours,” I said rudely with another belch. “It’s empty. You should tell me the name anyway, after making me drink all that sewage.”Winston gave me a devious smile. “Come back with a full bottle and I will.”“Selfish spook,” I mumbled, and staggered away.I’d made it a few feet when I felt that distinct pins-and-needles sensation again, only this time it wasn’t in my throat.“Hey!”I looked down in time to see Winston’s grinning, transparent form fly out of my pants. He was chuckling even as I smacked at myself and hopped up and down furiously.“Drunken filthy pig!” I spat. “Bastard!”“And a good eve’in’ to you, too, mistress!” he called out, his edges starting to blur and fade. “Come back soon!”“I hope worms shit on your corpse!” was my reply. A ghost had just gotten to third base with me. Could I sink any lower?

But—let me tell you my cat joke. It's very short and simple. A hostess is giving a dinner party and she's got a lovely five-pound T-bone steak sitting on the sideboard in the kitchen waiting to be cooked while she chats with the guests in the living room—has a few drinks and whatnot. But then she excuses herself to go into the kitchen to cook the steak—and it's gone. And there's the family cat, in the corner, sedately washing it's face.""The cat got the steak," Barney said."Did it? The guests are called in; they argue about it. The steak is gone, all five pounds of it; there sits the cat, looking well-fed and cheerful. "Weigh the cat," someone says. They've had a few drinks; it looks like a good idea. So they go into the bathroom and weigh the cat on the scales. It reads exactly five pounds. They all perceive this reading and a guest says, "okay, that's it. There's the steak." They're satisfied that they know what happened, now; they've got empirical proof. Then a qualm comes to one of them and he says, puzzled, "But where's the cat?

Avendo perso uno degli inseguiti, Ivan concentrò la sua attenzione sul gatto, e vide quello strano animale avvicinarsi al predellino del vagone di testa del tram A immobile alla fermata, spingere via con insolenza una donna, afferrare la maniglia e tentare perfino di dare una moneta da dieci copeche alla bigliettaria attraverso un finestrino aperto per l'afa.Il comportamento del gatto sbalordì talmente Ivan da lasciarlo immobile davanti alla drogheria sull'angolo; e subito una seconda volta, ma con molta più forza egli fu sbalordito dal comportamento della bigliettaria. Questa, non appena vide il gatto che saliva sul tram, gridò con una rabbia che la scuoteva tutta:- È vietato ai gatti! È vietato portare gatti! Passa via! Scendi, se no chiamo la polizia!Né la bigliettaria né i passeggeri furono colpiti dalla cosa principale: non dal fatto che un gatto salisse sul tram, questo poteva ancora passare, ma dal fatto che volesse pagare il biglietto!Il gatto si dimostrò animale non soltanto solvibile, ma anche disciplinato. Alla prima sgridata della bigliettaria cessò l'attacco, si staccò dal predellino e si sedette alla fermata, soffregandosi i baffi con la monetina. Ma non appena la bigliettaria diede il segnale e il tram si mosse, il gatto si comportò come chiunque sia cacciato da un tram, sul quale deve viaggiare per forza. Dopo essersi lasciato passare davanti tutte e tre le vetture, balzò sulla parte posteriore dell'ultima, si afferrò con la zampa a un tubo che usciva dal veicolo e filò via, economizzando in tal modo il prezzo della corsa.

Until one morning, one of the coldest mornings of the year, when I came in with the book cart and found Jean Hollis Clark, a fellow librarian, standing dead still in the middle of the staff room."I heard a noise from the drop box," Jean said."What kind of noise?""I think it's an animal.""A what?""An animal," Jean said. "I think there's an animal in the drop box."That was when I heard it, a low rumble from under the metal cover. It didn't sound like an animal. It sounded like an old man clearing his throat.Gurr-gug-gug. Gurr-gug-gug.But the opening at the top of the chute was only a few inches wide, so that would be quite a squeeze for an old man. It had to be an animal. But what kind? I got down on my knees, reached over the lid, and hoped for a chipmunk.What I got instead was a blast of freezing air. The night before, the temperature had reached minus fifteen degrees, and that didn't take into account the wind, which cut under your coat and squeezed your bones. And on that night, of all nights, someone had jammed a book into return slot, wedging it open. It was as cold in the box as it was outside, maybe colder, since the box was lined with metal. It was the kind of cold that made it almost painful to breathe.I was still catching my breath, in fact, when I saw the kitten huddled in the front left corner of the box. It was tucked up in a little space underneath a book, so all I could see at first was its head. It looked grey in the shadows, almost like a little rock, and I could tell its fur was dirty and tangled. Carefully, I lifted the book. The kitten looked up at me, slowly and sadly, and for a second I looked straight into its huge golden eyes. The it lowered its head and sank back down into its hole.At that moment, I lost every bone in my body and just melted.