Anamarija Majanovic

“You love it right?" Lassiter asked, holding his Bible high. "I mean, you told me to go on the internet. I did. I even printed out my diploma or whatever the hell it's called." Opening the cover of the King James version, he took out a piece of paper and waved it around. "See? Nice and legal-like" Beth leaned in "Wow". "I know right? Just like Harvard" "Impressive" "I'm totally framing that shit, wha-what.”
― J.R. Ward, The King

“You have quite a way with animals.”

“They’re my business,” she said, as if she needed to explain her delight.

“You’re good at it. That’s obvious.”

“I like helping animals. It makes me feel . . . useful, I guess.”

“Maybe you could show me what you do sometime.”

Tess cocked her head at him. “Do you have a pet?”

Dante should have said no, but he was still picturing her with those two ridiculous furballs and wishing that he could bring her some of that same joy. “I keep a dog. Like those.”

“You do? What’s its name?”

Dante cleared his throat, mentally casting about for what he might call a useless creature that depended on him for survival. “Harvard,” he drawled, his lips curving with private humor. “I call it Harvard.”

“Well, I’d love to meet him sometime, Dante.” A chilly breeze kicked up, and Tess shivered, rubbing her arms. “It’s getting kind of late. I should probably think about heading home.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dante nodded, kicking himself for making up a pet, for God’s sake, just because it might win him some favor with Tess.”
― Lara Adrian, Kiss of Crimson

“Rhage raised his hand " Pastor Ass-hat, I have a question." "Yes my son, you are going to hell”
― J.R. Ward, The King

“You should go order a sweet roll. Those are to die for. And a carne adovada burrito."

His mouth thinned. "Should I order something else to drink?"

"Yes! A diet whatever. No! A mocha latte. No!" I held up my hand to put him in pause so I could think. "Yes, a mocha latte."

"Are you finished?" he asked, rising to go place his order. He was really hungry.

"Yes. No! Yes. I'm good with that. I have a busy afternoon ahead of me, and I need all the energy I can get. And I need you to be my wingman."

"This should be interesting," he said, sauntering off like he owned the place.

By the time he got back, his fries had disappeared. It was weird.”
― Darynda Jones, Sixth Grave on the Edge