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If I lost him here, to this idiotic fight, after I fought and guarded him for two weeks, after I cried and thought he was dying, I would find him in the afterlife and I would murder him again.

Ilona Andrews

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Ilona Andrews
Week
Guarded
Fighting
Afterlife
Lost
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Two
Fought
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Weeks
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Murder
Would
Dying
Fight
Idiotic

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Judging by the hard lines of his face and the flat look in his eyes, he'd left the Marines, but the Corps hadn't quite left him.
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Was his body made out of orange rocks and did he at any point yell 'It's clobbering time'? I find your attempt at levity inappropriate. Consider me properly chastised.
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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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There is no such thing as privacy between a deity and his worshipper. There are no secrets, no glossed-over failures. Only promises kept and abandoned, sins committed and imagined, and raw emotion. How many of us are ready to have our lives judged? What would happen if we were found wanting?
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Did I hurt you in the parking lot? No, m'lady. I fell, so I could put a tracker on your car. Great.
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... That would be like stepping in front of a moving train and saying, 'Hey, honey, come stand next to me.' I hopped off the wall and stood next to him. Anytime. He just looked at me. I've never killed a train before. It might be fun to try.
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I had forgotten that talking to you is like trying to pet a cactus. Saiman said dryly. Thank you for reminding me. Always happy to oblige.
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It took a qualified wizard to detect a summoning in progress. It required only a half-literate idiot with a twitch of power and a dim idea of how to use it to attempt one. Before you knew it, a three-headed Slavonic god was wreaking havoc in downtown Atlanta, the skies were raining winged snakes, and SWAT was screaming for more ammo.
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I do shodo magic,” Dali said. “I curse through calligraphy. I have to write the curse out on a piece of paper and I can’t move while I do it. One smudge, and I might kill the lot of us.” Oh good. “But don’t worry.” Dali waved her arms. “It’s so precise, it usually doesn’t work at all.” Better and better.
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Because you are the one. You are better than me in some things, and I am better than you in others...I don’t mind being a bit like you. I hope you don’t mind being a bit like me.
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After I chased the werewolf and the vampire out of my office, I changed my clothes.
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What's with the cute shoelace on your head? What this? He flicked the end of the cord with his finger. Yeah. Rambo called, he wants his bandana back.
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I batted my eyelashes and did my best to appear dumb as a board
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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.
Ilona Andrews
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You're an interesting woman. Your interest has been duly noted.
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She could've stared into those eyes for a thousand years and never noticed the time passing by.
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Kate Daniels, trained negotiator. When in possession of some valuable information, give it away to the first sexy man you see with no guarantee of return.
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He had the prettiest hair she had ever seen on a man: dark brown, almost black, and soft like sable, it fell down to his shoulders. She wondered what he'd do if she threw some mud in it. Probably kill her.
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…Something isn’t right with you and this property. Strange things happen around it. I don’t know what is going on, but I will find out. You could make it easier on yourself by coming clean.” “Sure. This is a magic bed-and-breakfast and the two guys in my kitchen are aliens from outerspace.
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Yes I can,” Curran snarled. “Listen: this is me telling you what you will not do.” I raised the cookbook and tapped him on the nose. Bad cat.
Ilona Andrews