Anna

“Where is the bane of my existence?"
"In the shower, freshening up."
Damn it all to hell. "Oh God, who did Ascanio screw now?"
"No, no, he's covered in blood."
"Oh good." Wait a minute. "The kid is covered in blood and we're relieved. There is something wrong with us.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Gifts

“Some men got excited by white lace and a translucent negligee. My love muffin got excited by a woman dressed to murder. There was probably something deeply twisted about that. Lucky for me, negligees were never my thing.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Gifts

“What would a racist call werewolves? Wargs? She kind of liked that one, but suspected that racist bastards didn't read Tolkien.”
― Patricia Briggs, Fair Game

“He grinned. "You're jealous."
I considered it. "No. But when you stared at that woman like she was made of diamonds, it didn't feel very good."
"I stared at her because she smelled strange."
"Strange how?"
"She smelled like rock dust. Very strong dry smell." Curran put his arms around me. "I love it when you get all fussy and possessive."
"I never get fussy and possessive."
He grinned, showing his teeth. His face was practically glowing. "So you're cool if I go over and chat her up?"
"Sure. Are you cool if I go and chat up that sexy werewolf on the third floor?"
He went from casual and funny to deadly serious in half a blink. "What sexy werewolf?"
I laughed.
Curran's eyes focused. He was concentrating on something.
"You're taking a mental inventory of all people working on the third floor, aren't you?"
His expression went blank. I'd hit the nail on the head.
I slid off him and put my head on his biceps. The shaggy carpet was nice and comfortable under my back.
"Is it Jordan?"
"I just picked a random floor," I told him. "You're nuts, you know that?"
He put his arm around me. "Look who is talking.”
― Ilona Andrews, Magic Gifts