Sarah

“Um … I am Annwyl.”
“Annwyl. Annwyl. I do not know an Annwyl. So, are you my dinner?”
“No.” It took a step back. “No. I’m not dinner. Let’s never say that again. I am Annwyl of the Dark Plains.” The queen stared at it.
“Annwyl of Garbhán Isle?” Still nothing. It sighed.
“Annwyl the Bloody.”
“You are Annwyl the Bloody?”
It looked slightly defeated. “Yes.”
“You are awfully tiny to be Annwyl the Bloody.”
“I’m taller than most men.”
“That simply does not impress me.”
― G.A. Aiken, Dragon Actually

“She wasn’t part of it,” Addolgar cut in. “And she saved my life.”
“Who cares about your life?” Bercelak demanded.
Addolgar was silent for a moment before he replied, “I do.”
Braith studied the dragon who sat next to her. “You had to think about that reply?”
“Wanted to make sure it wasn’t a trick question, didn’t I?”
― G.A. Aiken, A Tale of Two Dragons

“Are you my daddy?”
Ricky Lee Reed, originally of Smithtown, Tennessee, and only replanted to New York City a few years back, gawked at the child who’d asked him the question for a mere moment before he turned his attention to the adult female who held the child.
He’d admit it wasn’t a question he expected to get, you know, ever. For a bunch of reasons, too, but mostly because he didn’t know this woman. He wasn’t one of those guys who nailed so many females he forgot their faces or names. So then . . . why was this child asking him this question? And even stranger, why was the female raising her brows and suddenly asking, “Well . . . are you?”
Wait. Wouldn’t she know? Shouldn’t she? Good Lord, this city.”
― Shelly Laurenston, Wolf with Benefits

“Rhiannon readied her speech. The speech she’d given more than once over the years to Éibhear and, when they were much younger, to her older sons. The one that included things like:
“I’m sure your father didn’t mean that.”
“Of course your father loves you.”
“No. He didn’t try to sell your egg to the highest human bidder.”
“And of course, he never tried to kill you while you slept!”
― G.A. Aiken, How to Drive a Dragon Crazy