Alexia gave in to his demanding touch, but only, of course, because he sounded so pathetic. It had … - Gail Carriger

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I used to imagine it. I used to pretend that my Peugeot driving to the gym in the rain in Dublin was a Ferrari on the Vegas strip. And now that I have that? I can't even describe that feeling. That's why I like the best - the best cars, the best food, the best watches.

Gail Carriger

Alexia gave in to his demanding touch, but only, of course, because he sounded so pathetic. It had nothing, whatsoever to do with her own quickening heartbeat.

Courses, Heartbeat, Nothing, Quickening, Whatsoever

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His eyes are peculiar. There is nothing in them, like an eclair without the cream filling. It's wrong, lack of cream.

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The duke contents himself mainly with attempting to rule the world and other suchlike nonsense. When one is guiding the patterns of the social universe, a single spinster preternatural is unlikely to cause one undue distress.

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Who doesn’t want an exploding wicker chicken?

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Lord Maccon asked meekly, shifting against her in a manner that ensured she realized the nibbling had affected his outsides just as much as her insides. Alexia was partly shocked, partly intrigued by the idea that as he was naked, she might actually get to see what he looked like. She had seen sketches of the nude male, of course, for purely technical purposes. She was given to wonder if werewolves were anatomically bigger in certain areas.

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Classic author moment, "Oh dear, did I kill that character or not?

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