Editing Services by Cynthia Shepp

“We will never speak of your cadaverous girlfriend or murderous ways ever again.”
― Elle Casey, The Changelings

“As my lawyer dad would say, I had breached a contract with the devil.”
― Elle Casey

“Chust a little farther.   Keep your shoes on.”

Peter whispered to me.   “Where does he get this stuff, anyway?   Isn’t it pants?   Aren’t we supposed to keep our pants on?”

“Maybe for Bodo shoes are more important.   Maybe it’s a German thing.”

“You know, Chermans can hear very good.   You are talking about me not very nice, I know it.”

“We were just talking about your creative colloquialisms,” said Peter.

I had no idea what that word meant, but it was fun to mess with Bodo, which is exactly what Peter was trying to do.  

“Is dat like a fucktart?”

“What?” asked Peter, half choking.

“Fucktart.   Dat’s a new word I learned today.   Isn’t it a good one?”

“I told you before, Bodo,” I said, “it’s not fucktart.   It’s fucktard.   And you were right before.   It’s not a nice word, so stop saying it.”

“I didn’t say fucktart.   Dat was you.   You are the lady saying all the fucktart words today.   Or moron.   She likes dat one, too.   I think it means boy I luff.”

“Wow.   You guys have one of the most messed up relationships I have ever seen,” said Peter, shaking his head.   “Seriously.   You fight to lighten the mood.   You call each other names …”

“And we take showers togedder sometimes. Don’t forget dat.”

“Shut up, Bodo!”

“You do?   Ew.   That’s a public shower, you know.”

“We do not take showers together.”

“Yesss weeee doooo … ”

“One time!   Okay?   One time.   And it’ll never happen again, I can promise you that.”

“I can promise you different!” said Bodo in a singsong voice.”
― Elle Casey, Warpaint

“Don’t worry.   Your knight in shining armor will arrive someday.   And when he does, I know he’ll not only be totally adorable, but he’ll be a good cuddler, too.   I’ll bet Trip is a horrible cuddler.”   I narrowed my eyes at the offender, ignoring his amazing body in favor of his imagined snuggling crimes.

“Yeah,” said Peter, gamely.   “He probably just lays there and expects to be the cuddlee all the time and not the cuddler.”

“You are so right.   Just look at him.   I’ll bet you twenty bucks he’s a cover-stealer, too.”

“Not that twenty bucks means anything, since bills are only good for feeding fires right now, but yeah.   I get it.   I’ll bet you a can of beans he’s a cover-stealer.”

“A can of beans and a bag of chips,” I countered.

“Whoa.   That’s serious.   A bag of chips?   Really?”

“What’s serious?” asked Kowi, coming up from behind and scaring both of us enough to make us jump.

“Uh … nothing?” I said, looking sheepish.”
― Elle Casey, Warpaint