Don't panic, but we've got an audience." Clary turned her head. Perched on a nearby tree branch was Hugo, watching them beadily from bright black eyes. So the sound she'd heard had been wings rather than demented passion. That was disappointing.
Cassandra ClareHe was still stroking the inside of her wrist, his touch doing odd delicious things to her skin and nerves.
Cassandra ClareHe looks," Simon had once said to Isabelle, "like he's thinking about something deep and meaningful, but if you ask him what it is, he'll punch you in the face.
Cassandra ClareJace, There is no wedding! Stop Isabelle! Sit on her if you have to. Just stop her from doing whatever she's doing or I can never come home. -Alec
Cassandra Clare