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443 pages, Kindle Edition
First published July 31, 2012
Between Kate Daniels and me, we had a wealth of skills, a small sea of experience, and enough smears on our reputation to kill a dozen careers.
“Where is the bane of my existence?” “In the shower, freshening up.” “Oh God, who did Ascanio screw now?” “No, no, he’s covered in blood.” “Oh good.” She sighed and stopped. “The kid is covered in blood and we’re relieved. There is something wrong with us.”
I don’t date. I only steal virgins to sacrifice.
“Raphael?” He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. “Are you okay?” Raphael’s lips moved. He swore. Ha! I got him! Drink it in, darling. Where’s your seven-foot-tall fiancée now? “Is there something wrong with my dress?” Rub it in, rub it in…
It’s never a good thing when the black volhv says “Uh-oh” and then runs for his life.
“The Consort in the flesh. You grace us with your presence, Your Majesty. I’m so honored.” I pressed my hand to my chest, hyperventilating. “I shall alert the media posthaste!”
“Your pajamas have Eeyore on them.” “I like Eeyore. He’s sensible. A sober outlook on life never hurt anyone.”
Kate smirked. “What?” “Your horse looks pink.” “So?” “If you paste some stars on her butt, you’ll be riding My Little Pony.” "Bugger off."
Ha. We killed an unkillable giant. Eat your heart out, Beast Lord.
“It’s only ribs,” Kate told him. “And they’re not even broken. They are fractured.” “And the hip,” Doolittle said. “And the knee.” There you go. Don’t expect mercy from a honeybadger.
“Go. Away,” Raphael said. The volhv leaned back, his arms behind his head. “How about you go fuck yourself.” Nice repartee. Not. Raphael smiled. “Big talk for a man in a dress.” “It’s not a dress. It’s robes, which are my work clothes. You know, work? The thing real men do?” Uh-oh.I could go on and quote pretty much the whole book but I’ll try and show some mercy here.["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>
"...that totally could be taken the wrong way."
Isn't that supposed to be "that could totally be taken the wrong way"?
“Where is the bane of my existence?“
“In the shower, freshening up.“
“Oh god, who did Ascanio screw now?“
“No, no, he’s covered in blood.“
“Oh good.“
I gave him my Order smile: sweet grin, hard eyes, reached over to my passenger seat, and pulled out my submachine gun. About twenty-seven inches long, the HK was my favorite toy for close-quarters combat. The rider’s eyes went wide.
“This is an HK UMP submachine gun. Renowned for its stopping power and reliability. Cyclic rate of fire: eight hundred rounds per minute. That means I can empty this thirty-round clip into you in less than three seconds. At this range, I’ll cut you in half.” It wasn’t strictly true but it sounded good. “You see what it says on the barrel?”
On the barrel, pretty white letters spelled out PARTY STARTER.
A crazy light sparked in Andrea's eyes. "I'll make it my mission in life to take [Aunt B] down."
And people said I was nuts.
Andrea raised her hand. “This is the hand that slapped Aunt B.”
“Maybe you should have it gold-plated.”
“Here, you can touch it, since you’re my best friend.”
When I went off the rails, I didn't do it halfway. No, I flipped a few times, caught a lot of air, then exploded in a fiery crash.
Our eerie hyena cackles echoed through the ruin. It wanted to play the hurting game against two boudas. It didn't stand a chance.
We mauled the beast.