I’d been declared—over my loud and sustained protests—Pythia, the chief seer of the supernatural world.

Karen Chance

Categorized in : World Loud Chiefs

You love me?" He just looked at me for a moment. And then he reared back his head and laughed, a rich, mellow sound, unreserved and unashamed. " No, not at all. I regularly battle gods for women I dislike!

battle moments sound

Pritkin and Mircea mixed like oil and water, only not so well. by Karen Chance

Pritkin and Mircea mixed like oil and water, only not so well.

oil-and-water oil water

What?” I said defensively, clutching the mink and my dignity. Since I was barefoot, mostly naked and completely hungover, I was pretty sure I grasped only one of them.

mink dignity naked

I wasn't entirely sure, but a polite John Pritkin might be a sign... by Karen Chance

I wasn't entirely sure, but a polite John Pritkin might be a sign of the apocalypse.

polite apocalypse might

He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.

ill atheist looks

All I want to know is why a party of Fey wanted to kill me,” I said heatedly. The beetle’s lips twisted enough to show fang. “Doesn’t everyone?” Radu hustled me out the door before I could find out if the vamp’s plump little carcass would fit into his overstuffed desk.

fey party doors

There are things we want, and things we may have.... Sanity lies... by Karen Chance

There are things we want, and things we may have.... Sanity lies in knowing the difference.

differences knowing lying

We're going jogging." "I don't run for recreation. I run when someone's after me with a weapon." "That can be arranged.

jogging weapons running

Great. I'd been dumped in Hell's waiting room. by Karen Chance

Great. I'd been dumped in Hell's waiting room.

dumped waiting-rooms hell

It's okay. You aren't my type. What's your type? Someone who gets... by Karen Chance

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

okay type trouble

No they called it the Codex Merlini because it was written by a g... by Karen Chance

No they called it the Codex Merlini because it was written by a guy named Ralph.

funny-stuff written guy

Mr. Complete Lack of Sympathy by Karen Chance

Mr. Complete Lack of Sympathy

So maybe it was just as well that my companion was more like Mulder. A coked-out Mulder with a lot of weapons, who knew that the monsters under the bed were real and would gut you.

bed real monsters

Thank you, Captain Obvious." "I'm on the Senate," he reminded me.... by Karen Chance

Thank you, Captain Obvious." "I'm on the Senate," he reminded me. "It's Lord Obvious.

obvious captains lord

I left it with a warmer,” he said drily. Because war mages ate their fried chicken frozen to the ground and they liked it.

frozen chickens war

You decent?” I pulled the towel up a little higher. “Yes, if my wrinkled toes don’t offend.” Marco’s swarthy head popped around the doorjamb. “Naw, they’re cute.

towels littles cute

They always assumed that I did not speak. That I could not. So many had plotted my death, discussed it, laughed about it, even while I was in the same room, because they assumed I was mindless. Like one of the failures of their kind, born mad. But I was not a failure. I was what I was supposed to be. I was dhampir. And they never lived to tell anyone they were wrong.

mad kind rooms

I'm about to rupture something," he was informed, as the big, gaily wrapped box she was carrying smacked into the small of his back again. She had an uncanny ability to hit the same spot every time.

uncanny rupture boxes

I looked up, but had to crane my head back, leaving the features above me wrong-side up. The clear green eyes were the same, and, unfortunately, so was the spiky blond hair. It didn’t look any better from this angle, I decided.

leaving eye hair

I barely heard him, I was too busy watching Pritkin, who had slumped over with his head on the sofa arm, shoulders shaking helplessly, and what looked suspiciously like tears leaking out from under his closed eyes. "Not that bad," he muttered, and then he was off again.

arms tears eye