Biffy said, off the cuff, "Or we could find a replacement queen." "Volunteering for the position?" "Why, Professor, is that wittiness I detect?" "Only for you." "Charmer." Biffy tapped him on the arm playfully.

Really, Channing,” remonstrated Alexia, “did you have to eat the man’s dog? I am convinced you will experience terrible indigestion.

The voice was low and tinged with a hint of Scotland. It would have caused Alexia to shiver and think primal monkey thoughts about moons and running far and fast, if she'd had a soul. Instead it caused her to sigh in exasperation and sit up.

Mrs. Loontwill did what any well-prepared mother would do upon finding her unmarried daughter in the arms of a gentleman werewolf: she had very decorous, and extremely loud, hysterics.

She was no closer to determining who might want her dead. There were just too many possibilities.

She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words. “You are an unfeeling”—poke —“traitorous”—poke—“mistrusting”—poke—“rude”—poke —“booby!” Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn’t seem to mind it in the least. Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. “You put it very well, my love.

Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.