Devon Monk Quotes

Hey, rock dude, are you destroying the house? Causing mayhem? Who’s a ferocious gargoyle? Stoney’s a ferocious gargoyle.

Night Owls is a fast, fun read that kept me turning the pages.

Lauren M. Roy delivers a plot that zips, dialogue that zings, and a cast of characters you'll cheer for to the very end. Thumbs up!

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “I play pool. Shoot hoops sometimes too. Any other sport you’re curious about?” “Hockey? Polo?” “Simultaneously. Trick is to keep the horses on their skates.

Shamus ordered half a cup of house brew.

Then he proceeded to fill the cup up the rest of the way with milk and sugar. Lots of sugar. “Sure you got enough milk in your sugar?” I asked as we strolled out of the shop and headed south. He flipped me off. “You drink your coffee your way, and I’ll drink my coffee the right way.

Maybe in the morning, sunlight would to turn him back into a statue;

then I could take Stone out to the forest where he could frolic among the ferns, gurgle at streams, and make friends with the other interesting rocks.

Don't know about my knives, but my gun's made of pain.

I think you’re possessed.” “Old news.” “Huh. Anyone I know?” “My dad. It’s a family issue I’m working on.

And it's just a hunt?" Bea asked. "Just tracking the guy down, or are we going to have to do a little covering up of our own?" Had she just told me she was willing to kill someone and cover it up? She gave me a happy smile, but that glint in her eyes told me that, yes, she'd just offered to off someone.

Keep digging, Flynn. Six feet makes a grave.

For a brief, weird minute I felt like Dorothy in Oz, walking down the street with Terric the doubtful, Shame the brainless, and heartless Zay.

Instinct told me it was dangerous. I could handle dangerous. Dangerous and me went back a long way. We did lunch when dangerous was in town.

Since I didn't have a spork handy, I leaned over the sink and scooped up a palmful of cold water and pressed it against my face. There had to be a better option than a violent sporking. There had to be a way to get rid of my dad.

…I noticed you don’t have any self-defense training…” “…I can handle myself just fine.” She stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, “In the very short time I’ve known you, you have been chased, shot, robbed, stabbed, drugged, and attacked by magic.” “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?

Rock, meet stubborn place.

... he was sunset against the mountains, strong, vibrant, dangerous, and yet somehow sheltering, protective. And married. Picnic, meet rain.

... he trotted down the hallway on all fours and started in on his second favorite pastime, conversations with plumbing. Just what I needed: Stone, the Toilet Whisperer.

I needed sleep. Big squishy bunches of it. Soon.

Then they both smiled the exact same smile. Narcissism times two. Oh, get a room already.

But it is clear to me that our survival—both yours and mine—will be dictated by how well you and I can work together.” “So we’re screwed?

Trace of Magic caught me up fast and pulled me in tight for a fun, action-and-sass adventure full of deadly magic and dangerous romance. Diana Pharaoh Francis delivers a downright terrific read.

I don’t know what’s happened to you.

You used to be such a nice girl. Now you’ve gone all stabby and whatnot.

Mouth in gear, brain stuck in neutral.

The price for using dark magic is death, so that goes a long way toward deterring users.

Whether you approach your dreams on soft feet or in a breathless run, just so long as you acknowledge that your dreams are valuable and worthy of pursuing, then you’ve made it.

I don’t know how to explain it.” “Try words. If that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to interpretive dance.

Let go of the past, of the things I wanted, of the people I loved, and move forward.

The Mum has the temper of a demon with a diaper rash. (Shamus)

My dad told me he knew where to find Zay.

Which meant I had to cooperate with him....Do you see what we have accomplished together? The healing of souls with the magic you carry. We have healed souls in death. With light and dark magic.We? No, you stuck your hands in my chest and stole my magic and threw it at them. If you try that again, you won't have hands. Where's Zayvion? Okay, maybe I was a little rusty on the whole cooperation thing.

I resisted the urge to pour mouthwash in my brain.