Carrie

“If I was drunk, I wouldn’t be here at all. And really, this is pretty good for four White Russians.”
“White what?” I almost sat down but was afraid the chair might dematerialize beneath me.
“It’s a drink,” he said. “You’d think I wouldn’t be into something named that—you know, considering my own personal experience with Russians. But they’re surprisingly delicious. The drinks, not real Russians.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

“When she released him, James looked stunned. “Still?” She suppressed a swell of sadness. “Always.”
― S.M. Reine

“And so went the rest of our conversation, with me having to constantly stop and explain what I’d just said. Each time, Dorian had some gentry equivalent for whatever I described. Some were more far-fetched than others, like when he said he was certain gorging on cake all day would achieve the same results as a blood-sugar test. He also had a very complicated explanation about how balancing a chicken in a tree was a well-established gentry method of determining gender. I was almost certain he knew there was no real equivalent to half the things I told him about and that he was making most of this up on the spot. He was simply trying to entertain me with the outlandish.”
― Richelle Mead, Shadow Heir

“She sank down in the chair again, gingerly, as if it would splinter. It might. Hades had made it himself, discovering in the process that he was a better Lord of Souls than he was Lord of Furniture.”
― Larissa Ione, Hades