Rose pictured him standing at the boundary of the Ogletree house in that enormous fur cape, with a giant sword sticking over his shoulder, roaring at the top of his lungs and then being upset that nobody came out, and laughed.
It became known that I had a rather fertile imagination, when it came to private activities." She stared. "What sort of private activities?" This time he did smile, and it turned his face wicked. "Disrobe, and I'll be happy to demonstrate.
I also stole a small yellow doughnut from the box of Duncan's doughnuts in the rec room and fed it to the attack poodle in my office. He made a great production of it. First, he growled at the doughnut, just to show it who was boss. Then he nudged it with his nose. Then he licked it, until finally he snagged it into his mouth and chomped it with great pleasure, dropping crumbs all over the carpet.
Juke glanced into her cup before tipping it down to her mouth. "Screw you!" "Now come on, sugar, you know I don't swing that way." "Whatever!
What kind of shapeshifter has orange fur anyway?" "Weredingo." Now I'd seen everything. Well, at least he didn't steal my baby.
The Oracle rose. As one, the three witches bowed. "See?" Bran jerked his thumb at the three women. "That's how a woman should treat a man. Next time you see me, I want you to do just like them.
If you don't explain it all to me, I might strangle somebody." Of course, Raphael might like that.
You know," she said, stirring her tea, "the fastest way to get him off your back is to sleep with him. And tell him you love him. Preferably while in bed." I smirked and the tea almost came out of my nose. "He'd run like he was on fire.
Too much excitement, Your Majesty?” I asked. “He was standing too close.” “He was asking about Andrea.” “Too close. I didn’t like it.” Curran wrapped his arm around my shoulders and started walking, steering me away from the group. His Possessive Majesty in all of his glory.
The hallway led me to the stairway of a million steps. My leg screamed in protest. I sighed and started climbing. I just had to keep from limping. Limping showed weakness, and I didn’t need any enterprising, career-motivated shapeshifters trying to challenge me for dominance right about now. I had once mentioned my desire for an elevator, and His Majesty asked me if I would like a flock of doves to carry me up to my quarters so my feet wouldn’t have to touch the ground. We were sparring at the time and I kicked him in the kidney in retaliation.
Andrea raised her hand. “This is the hand that slapped Aunt B.” “Maybe you should have it gold-plated.” “Here, you can touch it, since you’re my best friend.
Congratulations, love. You traded up. Does he treat you well?' 'He's a teddy bear,' I said. Teddy bear looked like he was suffering from murder withdrawal. (Rene and Kate on Jim!)
Who is Hunter Becker?" "Becker the Gory? Lighthouse Keepers? Boston?" "I would've preferred Becker the Easiley Surrendering or Becker the Quite Reasonable, but beyond that his name tells me nothing.
I lied. I need your help." "Who are we killing?" "Do you have a pen?
Kate Daniels, trained negotiator. When in possession of some valuable information, give it away to the first sexy man you see with no guarantee of return.
Go home, kiss your wives, hug your children and put your affairs in order, because tomorrow I will burn your neighborhood to the ground. We will kill you, your families, your neighbors, your pets, and anyone who will stand in our path. An attack on my family will not go unpunished.
He'd laugh in my face, then I'd slice him to ribbons and then he'd break my neck
He groaned and I saw his face. "Curran!" I would've preferred a homicidal lunatic. Oh, wait...
Your date appears to be hysterical," Rene told me. "You think I should slap some man into him?
I’d missed him so much, it almost hurt. It started the moment I left the Keep and nagged at me all day. Every day I had to fight with myself to keep from making up bullshit reasons to call the Keep so I could hear his voice. My only saving grace was that Curran wasn’t handling this whole mating thing any better. Yesterday he’d called me at the office claiming that he couldn’t find his socks. We talked for two hours.
I sighed and put Slayer between the front seats. "Stay here. Guard the car." Saiman shut the door. "Is the sword sentient?" "No. But I like to pretend it is.
Any messages for me?" Usually I got one or two, but mostly people who wanted my help preferred to talk in person. "Yes. Hold on." She pulled out a handful of pink tickets and recited from memory, without checking the paper. "Seven forty-two a.m., Mr. Gasparian: I curse you. I curse your arms so they wither and die and fall off your body. I curse your eyeballs to explode. I curse your feet to swell until blue. I curse your spine to crack. I curse you. I curse you. I curse you.
You fellows ever thought of hiring out as a Christmas lights crew? You’d make a fortune.
You snore worse. At least I don't turn into a lion in my sleep." "I only did it once." "Once was weird enough, thank you.
I can't give you the white picket fence, and if I did, you'd set it on fire.
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