Liz

“Arabella squinted back. “You’re almost nine months pregnant. Shouldn’t you be soft, and happy, and glowing? When are we gonna see some glow?”

Arabella clearly had a death wish.

Nevada finished her pickle spear and licked honey off her fingertips. “I’m the size of a house, the kid inside me keeps kicking me in the kidneys, I have to pee every five minutes, my legs cramp, and I can’t get out of bed by myself. I have to roll to the side like a walrus, which is harder right now since my husband is somewhere in the Russian Empire and he isn’t there to steady me. And how was your day of being young, beautiful, skinny, and carefree? Why aren’t you glowing?”
― Ilona Andrews, Emerald Blaze