Quotes by Ilona Andrews

I’d missed him so much, it almost hurt. It started the moment I left the Keep and nagged at me all day. Every day I had to fight with myself to keep from making up bullshit reasons to call the Keep so I could hear his voice. My only saving grace was that Curran wasn’t handling this whole mating thing any better. Yesterday he’d called me at the office claiming that he couldn’t find his socks. We talked for two hours.

you might want to decide fast. We live in a dangerous world. If you see a chance to be happy, you have to fight for it, so later you have no regrets.

Curran looked back at me. Why is it you always attract creeps?You tell me. Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.

I cant give you the white picket fence, and if I did, youd set it on fire.

His Majesty needs a can-I girl anyway. And Im not it.A can-I girl? Andrea frowned. I leaned back. Can I fetch your food, Your Majesty? Can I tell you how strong and mighty you are, Your Majesty? Can I pick your fleas, Your Majesty? Can I kiss your ass, Your Majesty? Can I... It dawned on me that Raphael was sitting very still. Frozen, like a statue, his gaze fixed on the point above my head. Hes standing behind me, isnt he? Andrea nodded slowly.Technically it should be may I, Curran said, his voice deeper than I remembered. Since youre asking for permission. Why me? To answer your question, yes, you may kiss my ass. Normally I prefer maintain my personal space, but youre a Friend of the Pack and your services have proven useful once or twice. I strive to accommodate the wishes of persons friendly to my people. My only question is, would kissing my ass be obeisance, grooming, or foreplay?

Its a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw a knife. Same thing, really.

Did he just rip out the engine? I asked.Yes, Saiman said. And now he is demolishing the Maserati with it.Ten seconds later Curran hurled the twisted wreck of black and orange that used to be the Maserati into the wall.The first melodic notes of an old song came from the computer. I glanced at Saiman.He shrugged. It begged for a soundtrack.

Help me, I can’t breathe, your ego is pushing all the air out of the room.

It seems that the young woman made some indelicate suggestion of a threesome...When I got there, Miss Nash was standing by the hot tub in a small bikini, pointing the business end of a SIG-Sauer P-226 at her fella and concerned members of the hotel staff, while dunking the scantily clad females head under the water and asking, Whos diving for clams now, bitch?

Just wait until he figures out I shut him out of his slut hut.

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.

Ive never created a riot before. I did cause a brawl at the last formal. A large number of young women there actually arrived with the expectation of seducing me into matrimony, and a couple of their mothers came to blows. It was hilari—I mean, dreadful. Simply dreadful.

I ripped my left arm out of his hand and slammed my elbow into his solar plexus. He exhaled in a gasp. I lunged for the dagger and sat on top of him, my knees pinning his arms, my dagger on his throat.He lay still. “I give up,” he said and smiled. “Your move.”Er. I was sitting atop the Beast Lord in my underwear, holding a knife to his throat. What the hell was my next move?

I came to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat. “Everyone brought a pet. I feel left out.” An enthusiastic howl broke the silence, and Grendel bounded through the doorway. He galloped through the steak house, skidded on the floor, smashed into my chair, and dropped a dead rat on my lap. Awesome.

Georgie, stop trying to resurrect the shoes. They were never alive in the first place.

Whats that?Thats my attack poodle.

Because he has the best equipment in the City and he knows how to use it!

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.

Its awful to be rich and mind-boggingly handsome and have women fawn over you. My heart bleeds for you. Poor dear, how do you manage?

Everybody has something, that one thing they must do to feel happy. I think this is yours, and I want you to be happy. You don’t have to do it, but it’s here if you choose to come back to it.