Mila

“Are you afraid?" Volker questioned while sitting at the table and getting comfortable.
"No. But I have incredible luck with dice and I am ruthless. You will lose, gentlemen. I will destroy your lands, take your women, ravish your men, and make your children my slave labor. I will own every castle, house, and farm that is within my reach. I won't be satisfied until I own all of it and you. I will destroy you all, gentlemen, and, to be quite blunt, I don't think you can handle it."
Van covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and he didn't dare look at his sister. Verner stepped back, motioning to the table. "Now I must insist."
"As you wish." Irene sighed and stood. She glanced at Van and gave him a quick wink before turning back to his uncle. "I do hope you're a 'sobber,' Mr. Van Holtz. Nothing I love more than the lamenting of the men I annihilate."

"I can't believe you made him cry."
"I did not. He just teared up a little."
"Yeah. I think it was when you told him, 'I now control your ports and own your manhood.'"
"His wife laughed.”
― Shelly Laurenston, When He Was Bad

“I think that lion females are really lesbians and the males are used strictly for their sperm”
― Shelly Laurenston, Here Kitty, Kitty!

“Miss Rasputin, what a delight to finally meet you,” said the vamp, speaking with only the faintest hint of an accent.

“Let’s hope you still feel that way in a few minutes, Mr. Delacroix.”

“Pierre, please. And may I call you Evangaline?” Pierre smiled at her winsomely.

“No, you may not. My name is Ms. Rasputin to you.”

Her answer took the vamp aback, but he recovered quickly and smiled again showing off his small pointed canines. Pierre’s dark eyes flicked over to Ryker in his feline form and he raised an aristocratic brow. “My, what a big pussy you have.”

“You know what they say, the bigger the better.”
― Eve Langlais, Wickedest Witch

“Got any brothers or sisters?”
“No.”
“Not a real chatty gal, are ya?”
“Exactly how am I supposed to expand on not having siblings? Should I cry?”
He smiled as he held up a bottle, “Wine?”
― Shelly Laurenston, Here Kitty, Kitty!