Quotes from Karen Chance

He had the look of an atheist who'd just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

I thought there was a good chance the fridge was possessed. It was subtle about it, but I had its number. I knew its ways. Oh yes.

Then you must be willing to fight," Mircea responded. "Life is not a gift, Raphael; it's a challenge. Rise to it!

I stared at him, unable to believe this was happening. That he could just disappear, along with everything rich and strange he'd brought into my life. Vanished, like magic.

Nobody said anything that time. Or maybe I just wasn't listening. After all, someone had to keep an eye on the fridge.

I'm about to rupture something," he was informed, as the big, gaily wrapped box she was carrying smacked into the small of his back again. She had an uncanny ability to hit the same spot every time.

And why not?" "You know why! This is a bad idea." "Perhaps I like a challenge." "Perhaps you're a glutton for punishment!" "Perhaps I am in love.

Then you must be willing to fight," Mircea responded. "Life is not a gift, Raphael; it's a challenge. Rise to it!

Thank you, Captain Obvious." "I'm on the Senate," he reminded me. "It's Lord Obvious.

I felt betrayed and absolutely livid, but my body wasn't smart enough to know it. It had liked the feel of his hands, wanted more of it, wanted it now. It was almost like there were two of me, one who heartily approved of the mage and one who would have dearly loved to see him dead.

Louis-Cesare's anger suddenly filled the small room like water, and in a heartbeat his eyes went from silver tinged to as solid as two antique coins. I sat frozen, awash in a sea of power. I was beginning to understand why Mircea had wanted him along, only Daddy had failed to mention anything about the hair-trigger temper. I guess he assumed the red hair would clue me in.

A legend is merely a history man decided to bugger.

It's okay. You aren't my type. What's your type? Someone who gets into less trouble.

It's about time! It's supposed to be a ritual, not a marathon.

I'm beginning to sense a theme," Mircea said, tossing his suit coat over a buckskin-covered chair. A moose head with huge, outspread antlers loomed over it, its bright glass eyes looking oddly lifelike in the low light. Mircea took in the room, his expression slightly repulsed yet fascinated. "I believe there is only one thing to say at this point." What's that?" Yee haw," he said gravely, and took me down like a rodeo calf.

You know, I've lived a long time," he told me, massaging my calf more firmly now. "And I met a lot of people. But I ain't never met a woman made me want to beat her to death as often as you.

I quote Tolkien because he puts it better. But I can still open a can of whup ass all over you." You're right," I told him. "He does put it better.

If I'm not supposed to be awake, why are you here?" I mumbled. "To be the little spoon.

Pritkin and Mircea mixed like oil and water, only not so well.

I stared at him, unable to believe this was happening. That he could just disappear, along with everything rich and strange he'd brought into my life. Vanished, like magic.

Kiss me....Cassie....Like you mean it.

When good Americans die, they go to Paris,' the ghost said, after taking a drag on a small cigarette. But you're not dead. I suppose the question must be, are you good?

War mages ordered, threatened and bitched. They didn't deal.

Trash can!" Pritkin cursed and grabbed one, just about the time everything I'd eaten that night paid a repeat visit. Whiskey, pizza, milk shake, beer-and a lone, half-dissolved gummy bear, which was a surprise, since I couldn't actually recall having eaten any. Fun times.