Cajun stomp?" "You heard me, swamper. And keep your hands to yourself.
Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don’t look awful this time. Me (Ilona): ... ~A little later~ Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen* Kid 1: Hey, you’ve got to see these pies. *opening the stove* Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time. Kid 1: I know, right?
She eats grass. Don’t ask.
What do you think?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding. I eyed him. "Impressive, but too much." He leaned toward me, the blue eyes smoky with a promise I was shure he could fulfill. I tried not to think of the bedroom. "Too much?" "Yes. I like the menace. It's very masculine, but he looks like he would screw everything in sight and call me 'wench
Did I ever tell you that you are like sunshine in the middle of the night?
What do you do to your hair?" "Dust, hair gel, and a little gun oil." "Ever thought of patenting the recipe?" "No.
I split the omelet between the plates and stopped when Curran's arms closed about me. He pulled me against him, pressing my back against his chest. I heard him inhale my scent. His lips grazed my temple. Here we were, alone, in my kitchen, holding each other while breakfast cooled on the table. This was some sort of alternate universe, with a different Kate, who wasn't hunted like a wild animal and who could have these sorts of things. "What's up?" I asked softly. "Just making sure you know you're caught.
Still think she is worth it?” Mahon asked quietly. “Of course. She is my mate.” Mahon sighed. “So you decided then.” “Do you think we’d be laying here bleeding in the snow if I wasn’t sure?” “Good point.
Rene looked at Grendel. “What in the world is that?” “That’s our mutant attack poodle,” I told her. “Is he chewing on a gun?
There was something very comforting about him, and I was not sure if it was his easy manner or his complete immunity to my scowling.
Is there any chance you'd overthrow the tyrannical Beast Lord and his psychotic consort?" "Yeah, I want a vacation." -Kate & Curran to Jim
If a cultural reference flies over a man's head, does it make a sound if nobody else gets it.
What’s the deal with the hair?” Curran tore his gaze from the book and grimaced. “Grows every flare. Can’t help it." We stared at each other. “Waiting for the Fabio joke,” he said.
So how was it?" she asked. "Kissing Curran?" "I can't let him kiss me again, because if he does, I'll sleep with him." Andrea blinked. "Well," she said finally, "At least you know where you stand.
I will kill him.” “Erra’s eyebrows rose. “You’d have to go through me first.” I shrugged. “I have to do something for a warm-up.” She laughed softly. “That’s the spirit. I do think you might be my favorite niece.
I stopped the blade two inches before it touched Andrea’s neck. Because she was my best friend, and sticking knives into your best friend’s windpipe was generally considered to be a social faux pas.
Somewhere in that database my name sat in its own little niche, the name of a reject, undisciplined and worthless. Just the way I liked it.
A pissy werelion was rather difficult to live with.
What's with the cute shoelace on your head?" "What this?" He flicked the end of the cord with his finger. "Yeah. Rambo called, he wants his bandana back.
Kate leaned back against her chair. "Where is the bane of my existence?" "In the shower, freshening up." "Oh, God, who did Asciano screw now?" "No, no, he's covered in blood." "Oh good." She sighed and stopped. "The kid is covered in blood and we're relieved. There is something wrong with us.
Why had I wasted all my time pretending to be someone I wasn't? I was tired, so very, very tired of standing on my own brakes. I felt...right. I felt free.
The idiot had shot their own dog. That’s what happened when the destructive potential of a man’s weapons exceeded his intelligence.
One look at Rebecca and Aunt B would have an instant apoplexy. Raphael’s eyebrows furrowed. “My mother’s approval isn’t necessary.” Aha. “Does she know that?
So we have giant super-smart vipers who slithered in here, killed our people, opened the vault, stole something from it, and slithered out, undetected?” “Appears so.” “Okay. Just wanted to make sure it wasn’t something dangerous.
We need a barn or one of those storage areas for the Broken vehicles." "A garage?" He gave her a short nod. "A private, relatively remote location, with thick walls to dampen the sound and preferably a sturdy door I could bolt from the inside, keeping your grandmother, your brothers, and all other painfully annoying spectators out..." Rose began to laugh. A make-out bunker... "I'm glad you find our dilemma hilarious.
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