I heard the mailman approach my office door, half an hour earlier than usual. He didn't sound right. His foot steps fell more heavily, jauntily, and he whistled. A new guy. He whistled his way to my office door, then fell silent for a moment. Then he laughed.
I never used to keep track of the phases of the moon. So I didn't know what it was one night shy of being full when a young woman sat down across from me in McAnally's pub and asked me to tell her all about something that could get her killed.
There are reasons I hate to drive fast. For one, the Blue Beetle, the mismatched Volkwagen bug that I putter around in, rattles and groans dangerously at anything above sixty miles an hour. For another, I don't get along so well with technology. Anything manufactured after about World War II seems to be susceptible to abrupt malfunction when I get close to it. As a rule, when I drive, I drive very carefully and sensibly.
It rained toads the day the White Council came to town.
Somethings things just aren't meant to go together. Things like oil and water. Orange juice and toothpaste.
Wizards and television.
The building was on fire, and it wasn't my fault.
On the whole, we're a murderous race.
Blood leaves no stain on a Warden's grey cloak.
Many things are not as they seem: The worst things in life never are.
Winter came early this year; it should of been a tip-off.
The summer sun was busy broiling the asphalt from Chicago's streets, the agony in my head had kept me horizontal for half a day, and some idiot was pounding on my apartment door.
I answered the phone, and Susan Rodriguez said, "They've taken our daughter."
I sat there for a long five count, swallowed, and said, "Um. What?"
Life is hard.
So many things must align in order to create life. It has to happen in a place that supports life, something approximately as rare as hen's teeth, from the perspective of the universe. Parents, in whatever form, have to come together for it to begin. From conception to birth, any number of hazards can end a life. And that's to say nothing of all the attention and energy required to care for a new life unitl it is old enough to look after itself.
Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness, monarch of the Winter Court of the Sidhe, has unique ideas regarding physical therapy.
A good con doesn't just happen.
It's all about setup.
My brother ruined a perfectly good run by saying, "Justine is pregnant."