Quotes from Ilona Andrews

If my luck held, it wouldn't be a handsome Greek demigod looking for the love of his life or at least his love of a couple of hours.

What is he doing here?" Curran growled. "He's Roland's Warlord. He's here for me." He was here for the woman who had broken his master's blade. "Tough luck. You're mine.

Screwy," I said. "Is that a medical term?" "Of course.

All men are liars. All women are liars, too.

Some women waited for a night in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her.

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.

Shave that jaw, brush that hair, tone down the crazy in the eyes, and he would have to fight women off with that crossbow.

I looked at him. "You really need to work on your threats. I can't tell if you're threatening me or inviting me for tea.

I gave him a smile. I was aiming for sweet, but he turned a shade paler and scooted a bit farther from me. Note to self: work more on sweet and less on psycho-killer.

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away.

You slept with Curran and you didn't tell me? I'm your best friend." "It didn't come up." "How disappointing for you." Ha-ha. "That's not what I meant.

Why could nothing with Kate be simple? Why couldn't Jim ever just come by to tell me that he had bowled a perfect game or benched a personal best. Maybe finally asked that weird tiger girl out.

Are you out of your mind?" It's not polite to lie to your best friend. "It's a possibility.

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.

Just so you know: if a rakshasa shows up, I left my sword in the car.

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.

You fellows ever thought of hiring out as a Christmas lights crew? You'd make a fortune.

I just had to stay cool. Zen. No punching in the face. Punching would not be Zen.

You know what I like about you? You have no sense. You sit here in my house, you can barely hold a spoon, and you're telling me 'no'. You'd pull on Death's whiskers if you could reach them.

It's a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw a knife. Same thing, really.

I can't give you the white picket fence, and if I did, you'd set it on fire.

I don't want it to be attributed to a loss of control on my part. When I throw you out of the window, I want there to be no doubt the act was deliberate.

Curran looked back at me. "Why is it you always attract creeps?" "You tell me." Ha! Walked right into that one, yes, he did.

The vampire stared at me, his mouth slack as Ghastek assessed his options. I took a couple of forms from my desk, put them into the vamp's mouth, and pulled them up by their edges. "What are you doing?" Ghastek asked. "My hole puncher broke." "You have no respect for the undead.