Erin

“Mercy," said my mother thoughtfully, "you never told me your werewolf neighbor was quite that hot.”
― Patricia Briggs, Bone Crossed

“Stay out of this,” she (Christy) snapped at me, wiping futilely at her cheeks. “This isn’t your business.”
“When you blamed Adam, whose only fault that I can see is that he has poor taste in wives, you made it my business,” I told her.
Honey cleared her throat. “You do know you are one of his wives, right?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Happily, he doesn’t know how bad off he is with me—and I intend that he never will.”
― Patricia Briggs, Night Broken

“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

“As Lothaire lifted the lid with a sense of dread, Nïx murmured, “Hint: it’s the middle one.”
Elizabeth’s fragile finger.Seeing it severed like this brought on a visceral reaction—pain shooting through his own hand, radiating throughout his regenerated heart. He closed the lid with a swallow, sentimentally pocketing the package.
“You gave her your heart, and she gave you the bird.” Nïx sighed. “Songs will be written about this.”
― Kresley Cole, Lothaire