He wasn't that good looking, he had the social skills of a wet cat and the patience of a caffeinated hummingbird

He’s a war mage. They’re almost impossible to kill.” He scowled. “Even on purpose.

He shook me, and despite it being one-handed, it made my teeth rattle. “If anything like that ever happens again. You. Leave. Me. Behind. Do you understand?” I would have argued, but I was feeling a little shocky for some reason. “I’m not good at abandoning people,” I finally said. A front-desk person scurried over, first-aid kit in hand, but Pritkin snarled at the poor guy and he quickly backed up a step. “Then get good at it!” He stomped off, limping, one shoulder hanging at an odd angle. “You’re welcome,” I murmured.

They’ll have to eat first. And by the time they’re finished, you’ll be back.” “With the condoms.” “Right.” “For the giant orgy you’re convinced we’re about to have in the backyard.” “Dory! Just go!” “I’ll go with,” Ray said, getting up. “I need a snack.” Which was how I ended up condom shopping with a vampire.

Not really hungry." "She’ll eat." Pritkin said curtly. "I said —" "If you starve to death it would damage my professional reputation." "I eat plenty." "The same does not apply should I strangle you in understandable irritation, however." "I’ll have a sandwich," I told Nick. "No meat.

A gentleman would have announced himself!” I told him, pressing against the side of the tub. “And a scoundrel would have joined you.” -- Kit Marlowe to the witch Gillian (shortly before joining her in the tub!)

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