Kathylill

“Every species has a dinner date as part of courting ritual. A woman who won't let you pay for dinner is rejecting your courtship. She may think she's playing fair, or that she's being a feminist, but a very deep level, she knows that she's crossing you off her list of possibilities.”
― Jennifer Crusie, Bet Me

“If you want to write a negative review, don't tickle me gently with your aesthetic displeasure about my work. Unleash the goddamn Kraken."

[on Twitter, July 17, 2012]”
― Scott Lynch

“Help me, I can’t breathe, your ego is pushing all the air out of the room.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Slays

“Kate makes good sausage," Jim said.

Six pairs of eyes stared at me. Thank you, Mr. Wonderful. Just what I needed.

"Oh yeah," Andrea snapped her fingers. "The links? The ones we had the beginning of the month? I didn't know you made those. I thought they were bought. They were so good." Her smile was positively cherubic. Of all the times not to be able to shoot laser beams out of my eyes...

"What do you put into your sausage, Kate?" Raphael wanted to know, giving me a perfectly innocent look.

Werejaguars with big mouths with a pinch of werehyena thrown in. "Venison and rabbit."

"That sounds like some fine sausage," Doolittle said. "Will you share the recipe?"

"Sure."

"I had no idea you were a sausage expert," Curran said with a completely straight face.

Die, die, die, die...

Even Derek cracked a smile. Raphael put his head down on the table and jerked a little.

"Is he choking?" Dali asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"No, he just needs a moment," Curran said. "Young bouda males. Easily excitable.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Strikes