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.
My investigative technique mostly consisted of going through the list of interested parties and making as much noise as possible, until the culprit lost his patience and tried to shut me up.
Ted said, "You're working for the Order now. " "Yes. " "How does it feel?" "Well, Doctor, it feels rather sore and tingly.
Strawberry Shortcake called, she wants her outfit back
For a second I thought I might actually be alive," I said, looking at Nick's unshaven face. "Now I know- I've gone to Hell and you're my nursemaid.
Aha," Andrea said. "I'm going to ignore that you just referred to yourself as 'sugar woogums'.
I thought of telling him that if it wasn't for Oklahoman cowboys and Mexican whores having a bit of fun, there would've been no Texans, but that would be counterproductive.
It a dude and a girl, and the house and wooo scary things happen and then they kill everything.
I almost had her. " Curran nodded. "I heard. And you could've taken her, too. " My voice came out flat. "Rub it in, why don't you. " He grinned. "No time for that now, maybe later. " I closed my eyes. There wouldn't be any later. "Are you imagining me rubbing it in?" he asked.
Outside the windows the day was bright: golden sunshine, blue sky, pleasant wind. . . I wanted to punch the happy day in the face, grab it by the hair, and beat it until it told me what the hell it was so happy about.
Your date appears to be hysterical," Rene told me. "You think I should slap some man into him?
Butterflies were small and light, and very magic sensitive. For some reason I made them feel safe and they gravitated to me like iron shavings to a magnet. They ruined my ferocious badass image, but you'd have to be a complete beast to swat butterflies.
Andrea raised her eyebrows. "Look at you, all high-speed. " "Yeah, you'd think I was a detective or something. " Andrea held her hand out. "You'll jinx it.
Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don’t look awful this time. Me (Ilona):. . . ~A little later~ Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen* Kid 1: Hey, you’ve got to see these pies. *opening the stove* Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time. Kid 1: I know, right?
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.
If you can't make it go away, wait it out.
Would you care for something to drink?” “Is it poisoned?” “It’s Saturday,” I said. “We only serve poison during the week.
What do you do to your hair?" "Dust, hair gel, and a little gun oil. " "Ever thought of patenting the recipe?" "No.
I have spent my spare time studying literature popular with young women of this planet. One should always study the battlefield. " Sean glanced at him. "And?" "I suggest you give up now. According to my research, in a vampire-werewolf love triangle, the vampire always gets the girl.
If you come, you better come in force because I will kill every single one of you. My hand won't shake, my aim won't falter. My face will be the last thing you'll see before you die. " I jammed my knife into the table and walked out.
You're screening your calls?" "Why not? It saves me from conversations with idiots. " "Is that an insult?" His voice dropped into a deep growl. "You're not an idiot," I told him. "You're just a deadly psychopath with a god complex. (. . . )