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« He squeezed his hands into fists. I picked up a grapefruit-sized rock and handed it to him. It went flying. Home run, Beast Lord style.

Ilona Andrews

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Ilona Andrews
Went
Fists
Lord
Handed
Running
Picked
Hands
Beast
Home
Flying
Rock
Grapefruit
Rocks
Squeezed
Style
Sized

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The kind of eyes that jumped from a woman's dreams right into her morning and made trouble in the marriage bed.
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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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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 turned and bumped by head against his chest a few times. It was the nearest hard surface.
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Her face looked like it would shatter any second.
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I’d give him a cup of coffee and a big helping of a knuckle sandwich. Generosity was a virtue and I was in the mood to be extremely virtuous.
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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 batted my eyelashes and did my best to appear dumb as a board
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Cajun stomp? You heard me, swamper. And keep your hands to yourself.
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Cute. I think I would prefer to be stabbed in the eye rather than be called cute.
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If you come back to me, I'll never leave you, I whispered into the furry ear. I'll make you all the pies you could ever eat.
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