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You know what I like about you? You have no sense. You sit here in my house, you can barely hold a spoon, and you're telling me 'no'. You'd pull on Death's whiskers if you could reach them.

Ilona Andrews

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Ilona Andrews
Reach
Hold
Sense
Whiskers
Death
Spoon
House
Spoons
Like
Barely
Pull
Telling

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He gave an impression of coiled power, a contained violence that if released, would explode with terrifying intensity.
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I want to punish them. I want that punishment to be so hard, so vicious that the next who takes their place wets himself at the mere thought of trying to fight me.
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All men are liars. All women are liars, too.
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A pissy werelion was rather difficult to live with.
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I dived for it, caught it three inches above the cement, and found myself face-to-face with the salamander. Ruby-red eyes regarded me with mild curiosity, black lips parted, and a long, spiderweb-thin filament of a tongue slithered from the salamander’s mouth and kissed the sphere’s glass in the reflection of my nose. Hi, I love you, too.
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In there?' She nodded. 'You want us to go into the tortoise?' Another nod. 'It's alive.' Another nod.
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You say the sweetest things. And that spaghetti perfume you're wearing is to die for. No hobo could resist. She snarled. Heh.
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The dark scary servant of all evil was on his way to rescue me. Somehow that thought failed to make me warm and fuzzy.
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I've never seen such a collection of idiots in my whole life.' Doolittle shook his head. 'If you participate in this lunacy, y'all will get yourselves killed. Then don't come crying to me.' Now that would be a neat trick.
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What happened to the alpha-wolf? LEGOs. Legos? It sounded Greek but I couldn't recall anything mythological with that name. Wasn't it an island? He was carrying a load of laundry into the basement and tripped on the old set of LEGOs his kids left on the stairs. Broke two ribs and an ankle.
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I took the jacket off, changed my T-shirt for a dark gray tank top, slipped on the tangle of the back sheath, and put the jacket on again. Thugs are us. Great. Just add a super-tight ponytail and loads of mascara, and I’d be ripe to play a supervillain’s evil mistress. Ve haf vays of making you gif us your DNA sample.
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He groaned and I saw his face. Curran! I would've preferred a homicidal lunatic. Oh, wait...
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At the door, Audrey called, Are you coming? No, just breathing hard, love. He glanced at her and was rewarded by an outraged glare, followed by, Oh, my God!
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They had picked up Julie's scent hit wolfsbane lost her and found her trail again at the crumbling Highway 23 except it was two hours old and mixed with horse scents. She was hitchhiking. Great. Awesome. At least she always carried a knife with her. When I relayed this to Curran he shrugged and said, If she kills anybody we'll make it go away.
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Curran looked back at me. Why is it you always attract creeps? You tell me. Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.
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Let’s talk.” I pinned Red to his chair with my stare. I did deranged quite well, when the occasion required.
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I’d signed six things and my stack wasn’t getting any smaller. It was like the paperwork was breeding while I worked.
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Everyone had a weakness. It was the law of nature that for each being there was a predator, or a disease, or a vulnerability built into their very core.
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He said, 'Yeah, but will I get chicks? In truckloads?
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Your headlights don't scare me.
Ilona Andrews