Godhunter (The Godhunter, #1)

by Amy Sumida

Did I mention gorgeous? And the leather? I don’t mean that silky yuppie lambskin either. I mean hardcore, I’m gonna bust your ass if you look at me wrong, well-worn but still solid enough to wipe the floor with your face, leather.

“I know that if I do this”—I kicked my leg out as hard as I could and caught him where no man likes to be kicked—“god or not; you’re going down.”

“God damn Buffy! Freakin’ vampire slayer gets all the props,” I muttered. “Vampires; please!

Oh, and falling for your prey? Total amateur. You don't poop where you eat, and you don't kill where you sleep. Or sleep with who

I tried to wipe away the blood in a very Lady Macbeth fashion. Out damn spot, out. It was useless.

I guess all warriors have a battle cry to help bolster their spirits. Mine went something like: I don’t wanna diiiiiie! Well, it was more of an internal battle cry.

In real life, you gotta save yourself and the only happy endings are the ones paid for in massage parlors.

I was pretty sure I had scrambled eggs for brains by the time he was done. Can an adult get shaken baby syndrome? “You will obey me, woman!” Oh, hell no; he didn’t just use the O word.

“Little?” Thor raised an outraged face to me. “We’re not back to that again, are we? You’re huge; monstrous. I’m terrified. Eeek, someone help me,” I intoned dryly.