Help me, I can’t breathe, your ego is pushing all the air out of the room.

— Ilona Andrews

He plugged the phone into the outlet. It rang. Roman stared at it as if it were a viper. The phone rang again. He unplugged it. “There.” “It can’t be that bad,” I told him. “Oh, it’s bad.” Roman nodded. “My dad refused to help my second sister buy a house, because he doesn’t like her boyfriend. My mother called him and it went badly. She cursed him. Every time he urinates, the stream arches up and over.

— Ilona Andrews

He raised his hand in a peaceful gesture. "You need to relax a bit, dove. Like Mouse over there. You trust me, don't you, Mouse?"" Nope!"" Ahhh, I'm hurt. Nobody likes me.

— Ilona Andrews

Her philosophy was, if it had a pulse, it could be killed. I didn’t really have a philosophy, but I could see how talking with the school director would be difficult for her. If he said something she didn’t like, chopping him to tiny pieces wouldn’t exactly help me get into the school.

— Ilona Andrews

He was going to take a dive into this lake. He just didn’t know it. Cerise rose, finding footing in the soft mud. The water came up to just below her breasts and her wet shirt stuck to her body. William’s gaze snagged on her chest. Yep, keep looking, Lord Bill. Knee-deep looking.

— Ilona Andrews

Hey, would you look at that shit?" I turned on my heel. The patrons who’d fled at the first hint of trouble had come back and were enjoying the spectacle." Clear out!" I barked. They paid me no mind. Asshole innocent bystanders.

— Ilona Andrews

His Majesty needs a can-I girl anyway. And I'm not it."" A can-I girl?" Andrea frowned. I leaned back. "'Can I fetch your food, Your Majesty? Can I tell you how strong and mighty you are, Your Majesty? Can I pick your fleas, Your Majesty? Can I kiss your ass, Your Majesty? Can I..." It dawned on me that Raphael was sitting very still. Frozen, like a statue, his gaze fixed on the point above my head. "He's standing behind me, isn't he?" Andrea nodded slowly." Technically it should be 'may I'," Currant said, his voice deeper than I remembered. "Since you're asking for permission." Why me? "To answer your question, yes, you may kiss my ass. Normally I prefer maintain my personal space, but you're a Friend of the Pack and your services have proven useful once or twice. I strive to accommodate the wishes of persons friendly to my people. My only question is, would kissing my ass be obeisance, grooming, or foreplay?

— Ilona Andrews

How can it not exist? What does that—” A tiny gray body shot in front of the Land Rover? “Squirrel!” Mad Rogan swerved to the side, trying to avoid the suicidal beast. The SUV hit a curb and jumped. For a terrifying second, we almost flew, weightless. My heart leaped into my throat. The heavy vehicle landed back on the pavement with a thud. The squirrel leapt into the grass on the other side. I remembered to breathe. “Thank you for not killing the squirrel.”“You’re welcome, although now I want to go back and strangle it.

— Ilona Andrews

How did the hearing go?” she asked.“We won, sort of,” Radar said. “We die at dawn.”“The court gave the Sherries twenty-four hours,” William corrected.”Yes, but ‘we die at dawn the day after tomorrow’ doesn’t sound nearly as dramatic.”“Does it have to be dramatic all the time?” Catherine murmured.“Of course. Everyone has a talent. Yours is crocheting and mine is making melodramatic statements.

— Ilona Andrews

I came to the table, pulled up a chair, and sat. “Everyone brought a pet. I feel left out.” An enthusiastic howl broke the silence, and Grendel bounded through the doorway. He galloped through the steak house, skidded on the floor, smashed into my chair, and dropped a dead rat on my lap. Awesome.

— Ilona Andrews