The Enforcer Enigma (San Andreas Shifters #3)

by G.L. Carriger

Kev said once that he worried his brother was broken beyond repair. The rest of the pack thought he might be, too. Judd didn’t. Or perhaps it was more, that he hoped if Colin was broken, it was like a break in one of those Japanese cups. The kind that could be repaired with gold and made into something imperfectly precious and whole again.

“You can’t leave his bed before he wakes up. That’s just rude!” “You knew I was in there?” Marvin gave his naked form an arch look. “Sweetie, everyone knows. Nobody cares. Now go back. Don’t be an idiot.” “But I’m not…” “Whatever you’re going to say is stupid. Don’t be stupid.”

Judd: “It’s that thing singers do when they bend down and slap the hands of the people in the front row.” Colin: “That can’t possibly be hygienic.”

No, if bad guys came into his café, Max would simply stand up, saunter over and activate his true power – sublime, capital Q, Queeniest Cattiest Bitchiness. He might not actually be a werewolf bitch, but Max had a beastly tongue, and admirable skill at applying it. He was a weapon of mass discussion.