Ilona Andrews is the pen name of Ilona Gordon and Andrew Gordon, an American husband-and-wife duo who write urban fantasy and romantic fiction together.
I had the metabolism of a hummingbird on crack.
If he full-out flexed, I would probably faint, or jump off the building.
He put the book down. “As you wish. ” He rose and walked past me. I lowered my sword, expecting him to pass, but suddenly he stepped in dangerously close. “Welcome home. I’m glad you made it. There is coffee in the kitchen for you. ” My mouth gaped open. He inhaled my scent, bent close, about to kiss me… I just stood there like an idiot. Curran smirked and whispered in my ear instead. “Psych. ” And just like that, he was out the door and gone. Oh boy.
You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away.
You sure you don’t want to kiss me good-bye, baby?
It was his eyes. When you looked into them, you saw chained violence baring teeth and claws back at you.
Is there anything else you need to tell me?” Every time I look at you, I have to put a leash on myself. “No.
William strode to her. That’s how it’s done. Drink it in. She surveyed the carnage behind him. “Did you have fun?” He showed her his teeth. “Yes. Now they won’t take you anywhere. ” Cerise stepped closer to him, so close he only needed to lean in and dip his head and he would kiss her. Since he saved her, maybe he could just grab her and— “That was the stupidest thing you have done since I’ve met you,” she ground out through her teeth. Belay the grabbing.
I know people who will gently persuade you to be forthcoming.
Do you have spies in Clan Heavy?” “I have spies everywhere. ” I looked at Andrea, who was hoarding bacon on her plate. “She had tea with Mahon’s wife. ” Andrea said. Aunt B looked at her. “You and I need to work on your air of mystery.
I gave him my best cryptic smile. He did not fall down to his feet, kiss my shoes, and promise me the world. I must be getting rusty.
Behind him Kaldar nudged Urow's youngest son. "Bet you he lasts at least thirty seconds. " "Um. . . " Gaston looked at him. "No he won't. " "Bet me something. " "I don't have anything. " Kaldar grimaced. "Pick up that rock. " Gaston swiped the rock off the ground. "Now you have a rock. I bet this five bucks against your rock. " Gaston grinned. "Deal.
All men are liars. All women are liars, too.
Who is that?” “Your replacement. ” “You replaced me with a shaved poodle?” “He's got mad skills.
I don't know if you heard, but I kind of run this place.
Perhaps I just wasn't scary enough. Maybe I should invest in some horns or fangs.
I have a serious question. " "I will give a serious answer. " "Can a god be killed?" The humor drained from Roman's face. "Well, that depends on if you're a pantheist or a Marxist. " "What's the difference?" "The first believes that divinity is the universe. The two are synonymous and nonexistent without each other. The second believes in anthropocentrism, seeing man in the center of the universe, and god as just an invention of human conscience. Of course, if you follow Nietzsche, you can kill God just by thinking about him.
The pervert. " "He prefers to think of himself as sexual deviant. " "Semantics.
He isn’t so much flirting,” Cerise murmured. “Either he doesn’t like me or he doesn’t know how. ” “Of course he likes you. You’re lovely. He probably just doesn’t get it. Some men have to be hit over the head with it. Her aunt rolled her eyes. “I thought I’d have to draw your uncle Jean a giant sign. That or kidnap him and have my evil way with him, until he got the message.
What is wrong with you? Many, many things.