Zeb was kindergarten teacher--a good one. I always thought it was because he was the same emotional age as his students.

Besides, my drinking blood's not nearly as weird as that time I caught you shaving your legs."
"I was curious!

Most of the people you read about being turned meet vamps in clubs or over the Internet...Ew, did you...?"
"Yes, I met a vampire on the Internet, went to his evil love den, and let him turn me, because I'm that brainless.

Are you going to answer my questions, or do I have to whack you with a stick until delicious candy surprises fall out?

You want to stab me again, don't you?"
He didn't look at all ashamed. "Think of it as testing the limits of your new abilities."
I groaned. "I've created a monster."
"I don't think someone who recently crawled from the grave should be throwing around labels like 'monster,'" he said, making sarcastic little air-quotes fingers.
"It wasn't a grave," I sniffed. "It was a comfy four-poster.

Leaving knots untied and scattering seeds to distract them will only work on vampires with OCD.