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“I said, I know why you’re afraid to fight with me.”
"And why is that?” If he flexed again, I’d have to implement emergency measures. Maybe I could kick some sand at him or something. Hard to look hot brushing sand out of your eyes.
"You want me.”
Oh boy.
"You can’t resist my subtle charm, so you’re afraid you’re going to make a spectacle out of yourself.”
"You know what? Don’t talk to me.”
― Magic Strikes
"And why is that?” If he flexed again, I’d have to implement emergency measures. Maybe I could kick some sand at him or something. Hard to look hot brushing sand out of your eyes.
"You want me.”
Oh boy.
"You can’t resist my subtle charm, so you’re afraid you’re going to make a spectacle out of yourself.”
"You know what? Don’t talk to me.”
― Magic Strikes
“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.”
― Magic Bites
― Magic Bites
“...you expect me to fall on my back with my legs spread."
"Not necessarily. ... You can fall on your hands and knees if you prefer. Or against the wall. Or on the kitchen counter. I suppose I might let you be on top, if you make it worth my while.”
― Magic Strikes
"Not necessarily. ... You can fall on your hands and knees if you prefer. Or against the wall. Or on the kitchen counter. I suppose I might let you be on top, if you make it worth my while.”
― Magic Strikes
“Need some help, Ass Kicker?”
― Magic Burns
― Magic Burns
“As he passed me, he leaned to Curran and handed him a paper fan folded from some sort of flyer.
Curran looked at the fan. “What?”
"An emergency precaution, Your Majesty. In case the lady faints.”
Curran just stared at him.
Raphael strode toward the Pit, turned, flexed a bit, and winked at me.
"Give me that,” I told Curran. “I need to fan myself.”
"No, you don’t.”
― Magic Strikes
Curran looked at the fan. “What?”
"An emergency precaution, Your Majesty. In case the lady faints.”
Curran just stared at him.
Raphael strode toward the Pit, turned, flexed a bit, and winked at me.
"Give me that,” I told Curran. “I need to fan myself.”
"No, you don’t.”
― Magic Strikes
Echo’s 2025 Year in Books
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