I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.
Mom. I have something to tell you. I’m undead. Now, I know you may have some preconceived notions about the undead. I know you may not be comfortable with the idea of me being undead. But I’m here to tell you that undead are just like you and me … well, okay. Possibly more like me than you.
The only thing better than imagining Dimitri carrying me in his arms was imagining him shirtless while carrying me in his arms.
Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.
There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own imagination can be crueler than any captor.
She's my kitten, and no one else's.
Aside from the obvious, Francesca, what do you want in return for supplying information?” Bones asked, getting back to the subject. “You to take me,” she replied at once. “Not gonna happen!” I spat, squeezing him possessively. Three sets of widened eyes fixed on me. That’s when I realized that what I had a firm grip on was no longer his hand.
Why did he have to be so gorgeous? Why did he have to stand so close, and why did I still love him so much?
Okay, God, I thought. Get me out of this and I’ll stop my half-assed church-going ways. You got me past a pack of Strigoi tonight. I mean, trapping that one between the doors really shouldn't have worked, so clearly you're on board. Let me get out of here, and I’ll...I don’t know. Donate Adrian’s money to the poor. Get baptized. Join a convent. Well, no. Not that last one.
You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed.
It's probably a bad indicator of your lifestyle when you miss your ex-boyfriend because he's absolutely lethal.
He’s not feeling well,” Clary said, catching at Simon’s wrist. “We’re going.” “No,
Run first,' Shane said. 'Mourn later.' It was the perfect motto for Morganville.
I have been stabbed, shot, burned, bitten, beaten unconscious too many times to count, and even staked. None of those held a candle to the pain I felt at seeing his mouth on hers.
Terrific. A bisexual dominant vampire with kidnapping expertise.
Whoa. Fangs. She had fangs. She leaned in, prodded them a little. Eating with those puppies was going to take some getting used to, she thought. On impulse, she brought up her hands, turned her fingers into claws. Hissed. Cool.
The train is roaring toward you and the villain is twirling his moustache and you're fussing that he's tied you to the tracks with the wrong kind of rope.
You're such a pain in the ass. (Butch) Said the SIG to the Glock. (V)
Playing with fire Kitten?
...cursing my heels and debating whether it was faster to stop and take them off--damn ankle straps!--or keep running with the potential neck breakers. Wouldn’t that make a charming epitaph? Here lies Cat. Killed not by fang, but Ferragamos.