“Exactly. These guys just want me to play Snow White singing in her little cottage while they do all the work."
Lucy snorted. "Snow White and the Seven Buttheads. You could give Disney a run for their money."
Nicholas poked her in the ribs. "I am not a singing dwarf!"
"No, you're a butthead. Weren't you paying attention?”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“I can do this, Logan," she said confidently. "Kala trained me for this."
"What if something goes wrong? I can't exactly wave a magic wand over you. I'm not Harry Potter."
"Who?"
"Never mind.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“Very possibly this was the night my white-knight complex, as Solange put it, would get me killed. Someone had better write a poem about it. It was only fair.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“Where's Lucy?" I asked the others.
"At the farmhouse," Nicholas said with grim satisfaction.
"How'd you manage that?"
"She's in a closet." Solange rolled her eyes.
I stared at Nicholas. "You locked your girlfriend in a closet? Smooth."
"She's going to eviscerate him," Quinn said cheerfully.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“My parents want to do things differently. Dad's big on treaties."

"And your mother?" Isabeau inquired.

"She's big on making grown men cry.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“Finally, a bit of luck. Rat bastard,” I hissed down at Montmartre. “Mangy dog of a scurvy goat.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Isabeau murmured.
“Feels good though. Try it.”
She narrowed her eyes at the top of Montmartre’s perfectly groomed hair. “Balding donkey’s ass. “
“Nice.”
“Sniveling flea-bitten rabid monkey droppings.”
“Clearly, you’re a natural.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“Logan?”
“Yes?” I pulled my clothes back on even though the fabric stuck to my wounds. So much for trying to keep them clean.
“How did you know it wasn’t really me?”
“Are you kidding? Your eyeballs could be on fire and you wouldn’t bat your lashes at me like that.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“I nodded. “Where’s your hunter?”
She flinched. “He went home. We thought it would be best.”
Her eyes went from worried to warning. “He’s under Drake protection.”
“So am I, or so I’ve been led to understand.”
“Of course you are,” Lucy said, her nose pressed to the window. “Misunderstanding. No big deal.”
Solange quirked a half smile. “You might try complete sentences, Lucy.”
“Can’t. Busy.”
I was curious despite myself. “What are you doing?”
“Drooling,” Solange explained fondly.
“I totally am,” Lucy admitted, unrepentant. “Just look at them.”
Lucy moved over to give me space. She was watching five of the seven Drake boys repairing the outside wall of the farmhouse, under our window."
"Solange leaned back against the wall, bored. “Are you done yet?”
“Hell no,” Lucy said. She’d left nose prints on the glass. Nicholas smirked up at her. She blushed. “Ooops. Busted.”
“I told you they could hear your heartbeat,” Solange said.
“Even from up here.”
“I can’t help it. Even if they all know they’re pretty and are insufferably arrogant,” she added louder. “Can they hear that?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She glanced at me. “Yummy, right?”
“I’m sure Isabeau would rather recover, not ogle my brothers,”
Solange said. “You remember how stressed you were after the Hypnos?”
“Please,” Lucy scoffed. “This is totally soothing.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud

“It was a beautiful night, warm and filled with stars and the songs of crickets and frogs. White flowers glowed in the grass. It was a night made for poetry. We should have been kissing. A lot.
Instead we were sneaking out of the caves to a blood-soaked clearing where we’d been ambushed not twenty-four hours earlier. Not exactly an ordinary date.”
― Alyxandra Harvey, Blood Feud