Iris Hunter (InstagramREADS)

“Lucifer looked over her shoulder. “What?”

Dahlia cleared her throat. “You stupid bitch, I hate you and love you. Do not wear anything Patience gave you, it’s all ugly. I am going to write on every single blank page. Ha-ha! Love, the Faithful slut.”

Lucifer scowled. “That person was mean to you.”
Dahlia grinned. “No way, Faith was funny. I was the bitch, she was the slut, and Patience was the crack whore.”
― Darcy Town, Morningstar

“I’m Jace.” He let her see his own fangs. “And you’re mine.” A claim made before all the wolves in the room. From now on, any wolf who touched her would face him—and death.
She swallowed and tilted her head back to better meet his stare. “Hello, husband.”
The wolf within growled…Mine.”
― Cynthia Eden

“What happens if I try to run?” I ask as the doors close. (jace)
“I’ll stop you.” (charlie)
“You don’t look too quick.” (jace)
“You’d be surprised.” (charlie)
“I hate surprises.” (jace)
“Then don’t run. (charlie)”
― D.D. Barant

“Nix to Declan:

Begin transcript—
Testing. Hello, hellooo, anybody out there? Check, check, one, two. Soft pee. Puh, puh. Resonance! Sooooooft pee. Alpha bravo disco tango duck.
This is Nïx! I’m the Ever-Knowing One, a goddess incandescent, incomparable, and irresistible. But enough about what you think of me. It’s a beautiful day in New Orleans. The wind is out of the east at a steady five knots and clouds look like rabbits … But enough about what you think of me!
Now, down to business—
Squirrel!
Where was I? [Long pause] Why am I in Regin’s car? Bertil, you crawl right back out of that bong this minute!
Oh, I remember! I am hereby laying down this track for Magister Declan Chase. If you are a mortal of the recorder peon class, know that Dekko and I go waaaaay back, and he’ll go berserk (snicker snicker) if he doesn’t receive this transmittal. …
Chase, riddle me this: what’s beautiful but monstrous, long of tooth but sharp of tooth and soft of mind, and can never ever tell a lie?
That’s right. The Enemy of Old can be very useful to you. So use him already.
P.S. Your middle name’s about to be spelled r-e-g-r-e-t.
And with that, I must bid you adieu. Don’t worry, we’ll catch up very soon. …
[Muffled] Who’s mummy’s wittle echolocator? That’s right—you are!
—End transcript”
― Kresley Cole, Dreams of a Dark Warrior