"Amanda's mouth eased into a long slow smile. Her eyes grew as bright as violet silk. "Yes. Yes," she muttered. "The monarch." She stared at Ziller. He at her. They modified each other by their looking. Something almost angelic danced on the abrasive surfaces of his face. She carried her excitement lightly, the way a hunter carries a loaded shotgun over a fence. Warm chemical yokes burst in their throats. Ziller had the stink of Pan about him. Amanda heard the phone ring in her womb. In the magnetized space between them, they flew their thoughts like kites. At last he reached out for her. She took his hand. As they disappeared far down the riverbank, the ringmaster and the Apache sat stunned, in the kind of vacuum that forms in the immediate wake of an historic turn."
--Another Roadside Attraction, Tom Robbins