I have peanut M&M's up there."
"Not my style"
"Raisinets."
"Feh."
"Sam Adams."
Thor narrowed his eyes. "Cold?"
"Downright icy."
Thor crossed his arms over his chest and told him self he was not pouting like a five-year-old. "I want Milk Duds.

Without time,” the angel said, “you have only the bottomless, shapeless mire of eternity.”
“FYI, philosophy bores me.”
“Not philosophy. Reality. Time is what gives life significance.

I brought us all Big Macs,” he said happily. “I know you dig ’em, remember?” “What the…” Tohr tightened his grip on his shellan, just in case . . . well, shit, with the way things were going lately, anything could happen. “What are you doing here?” “It’s your lucky day, motherfucker.

We’re vampires,” he said. “Not fairies.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. You see that study your king hangs out in?”
“He’s nearly blind.”
“Which explains why he hasn’t hanged himself in that pastel train wreck.”
“I thought you were bitching about the gloom-and-doom decorating?”
“I free-associate.

I want to see the front of you.”
“That’s what all the girls say.”
“Do you expect me to roll you over? ’Cuz I will.”
“Your mate’s not going to like this.”
“As if that’s going to bother you?”
“True. It actually makes it worth the effort.”
With a groan, he shoved his palms into the shimmering silver pool of blood beneath him, and flopped over like the side of beef he was.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“I know, right? Hung like a horse.”
“If you’re really nice—and you live through this—I’ll promise not to tell V.”
“About my size.”
She laughed a little. “No, that you assumed I’d look at you in any fashion other than professionally.

The guy was like part pro wrestler, part Toys "R" Us.