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'Stalowy szczur' Harry Harrison

Stalowy szczur - Harry Harrison

Zbyt wiele razy miałem do czynienia z policyjnymi robotami, żeby nie wiedzieć, do czego są zdolne i nie zdawać sobie sprawy, że są niezniszczalne. Można do nich strzelać, zrzucać je ze schodów, a i tak będą lazły za człowiekiem i ciągnęły umoralniające pogawędki. Choćby na jednej nodze. Ten właśnie to robił.

 

Pomyślałem, że jak zwykle robią dużo hałasu zupełnie bez przyczyny, no, może nie tak do końca, ale z całą pewnością był on przesadzony. Ale to nieuniknione w tym przecywilizowanym świecie. Przestępstwo jest tu taką rzadkością, że gdy policja jakieś wykryje, jest naprawdę uradowana. Nie ganię ich, rozdawanie mandatów to - jak podejrzewam - cholernie nudne zajęcie. Tak w ogóle to powinni mi podziękować: nie dość, że urozmaicam ich szarą egzystencję, to jeszcze udowadniam społeczeństwu, że na coś się jednak przydają.

 

Dużym osiągnięciem jest złożyć wargi w ciup i jednocześnie zachować dobrą dykcję, ale jakoś mi się to udało.

 

Z podziwu godną troską o innych, śpiących snem sprawiedliwych, Inskipp uruchomił alarm (...)

 

Wysiliłem całą swoją dyplomację i dołożyłem sporo wazeliny, gdyż od decyzji Inskippa naprawdę wiele zależało.

(...)

- Zamknij się i przestań zalewać mnie potokami swojej elokwencji, dopóki jeszcze mogę złapać oddech.

 

Zabrałem się więc do dzieła zaczynając od zgromadzenia pomocy naukowych. Przez jedną straszliwą chwilę myślałem już, że na statku nie ma cygar, w końcu jednak automat dostawczy wyrzucił wygrzebane z jakiegoś ciemnego kąta pudełko. 

 

Odwdzięczył się flaszką jakiegoś wina domowej produkcji. Degustacja wywarła na mnie niezatarte wrażenie. Przełyk i żołądek zameldowały, że ktoś przeszlifował je stalowym tarnikiem i zalał kwasem.

 

Patrząc na daty wydania, jest to pierwszy tom serii, natomiast chronologicznie - trzeci. 

Co do zawartości mam podobne uczucia, co do tytułu - niby poprawnie przetłumaczony, a brzmi w pewien sposób nieadekwatnie i zwyczajnie marnie. Jakby czytać kwadratami, przeciętne. Już samo to, że tak dużo czasu zeszło mi na tą maleńką książeczkę, jest podejrzane.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 1961
Seria: Stalowy szczur
Tom 1 (lub 3)

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'Silver Borne' Patricia Briggs

Silver Borne (Mercedes Thompson, #5) - Patricia Briggs

(...) I was sure that Adam enjoyed bowling. Throwing a weighty ball at a bunch of helpless pins and watching the resultant mayhem is just the kind of thing that werewolves love.


“Don’t worry,” he said, knowing the other wolf would hear him through the door. “Mercy takes care of herself; I just get to clean up the mess afterward.”

 

Anyone who offends me deserves to hear exactly how they trespassed—or needs to be lulled into a false sense of security before the sneak attack when they aren't paying attention.


Samuel is not bad-looking in his human form—but his wolf is pure white and fluffy. All he needed was a unicorn’s horn to be the perfect pet for a little girl.


Sylvia was about ten years older than I, and she wore those years well. She was a small woman, delicate and beautiful. They say Napoleon was small, too.


(...) Zee swearing in German. It was modern German because I could understand about one word in four. Modern German was a good sign.


“Why is it that all cars are women?” he asked.
“Because they’re fussy and demanding,” answered Zee.
“Because if they were men, they’d sit around and complain instead of getting the job done,”


“You are a sick, sick man,” I told him.
“Thank you,” Ben replied, looking modest.

 

He smiled at me. “You were supposed to be the Alpha’s eye
candy.”
Adam laughed.
“What?” I asked him. “You don’t think I’d be good eye candy?” I looked down at my overalls and grease-stained hands.


I don’t think I was getting braver, but after all the things that had happened lately, being frightened had lost its novelty.


“Ah can read, as long as they’s lotsa good pictures,” he said, speaking even slower than usual and using a lot more Texas-cowboy grammar.
“That’s my line,” I told Warren. “I resent your stealing it.”


Silence fell, and I remembered that I was supposed to be running this. It reminded me in an odd way of the time I’d had to take over my sister’s Girl Scout troop when my mother had been sick. Fourteen preteen girls, a tableful of werewolves—there were certain monstrous similarities.


I looked at Adam. “The next time you leap into a burning building after me, you’d better make damned sure I’m in there. And wear your shoes, damn it.” I looked at his feet again. “You’re leaking nasty burn ooze on the carpet.”
He smiled. “I love you, too, sweetheart. And thanks to the time you bled all over it, I now know a place that can clean almost anything off the carpet.”


I’d been keeping an eye on Henry throughout the fight. I glanced at him just as he stepped onto the mat.
“Alpha,” he called. “I chal—”
He never got the whole word out—because I drew my foster father’s SIG and shot him in the throat before he could.
(...) Adam looked at me. “Trust you to bring a gun to a fistfight,” he said with every evidence of admiration.


He’d been one to avoid if you could and to treat very, very courteously if you couldn't  He’d mellowed a little with age and didn't disembowel anyone who displeased him anymore. Not that I’d seen anyway.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2010
Seria: Mercy Thompson
Tom 5

'Bone Crossed' Patricia Briggs

Bone Crossed  - Patricia Briggs

Maybe I should have thanked him before I hit him with the tire iron.


“Damn it, Mercy.” He didn't like to swear in front of women. I always counted it a personal triumph when I could make him do it.


Adam was the Alpha werewolf in charge of the local pack. He was tough. He could be mean when he had to — and he wouldn't stand a chance against my mom.


(...) at least vampires looked like everyone else. As long as they didn't display their fangs for the camera — or throw a car around — it was unlikely they’d be spotted for what they were.


He was perfectly capable of sitting around with an innocent smile on his face — and then ripping someone’s head off.


Historically, war has often been used as a distraction for problems at home.


Samuel had a habit of checking pockets before he did laundry. Something about nuts and bolts in the dryer being irritatingly noisy — I thought that was directed at me, but I could have been paranoid.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2009
Seria: Mercy Thompson
Tom 4

'Iron Kissed' Patricia Briggs

Iron Kissed - Patricia Briggs

I knew better than to try to get something out of the old gremlin until he was ready to talk, so I let him alone until he decided to speak - at least after the first ten of fifteen questions he hadn't answered.

 

(...) felt the girl's gaze on the back of my neck all the way. She looked too innocent and helpless to be anything but a serious nasty.

 

I have no trouble dropping my eyes, acknowledging anyone’s superiority and then doing whatever I please. Among the werewolves, once dominance was acknowledged, the dominant werewolf could, by custom, do no more than cuff me out of his way... while I then ignored him or plotted how to get back at him as I chose.

 

“I was not flirting with her,” he ground out.
He wasn't usually so easy. I settled in for some real fun.
“She was certainly flirting with you, Dr. Cornick,” I said, even though she hadn't been. Still...
“She was not flirting with me either.”

 

Both Zee and Uncle Mike had left me to my own devices in this investigation. Okay, they'd told me not to investigate, which amounted to the same thing.

 

Someone shouted, “Get the troll out of here.”
Followed by someone with a very deep voice muttering, “I’d like to see you try to get this troll out of here. I’ll eat your face and spit out your teeth.”

 

The warmth of his body shouldn't have felt good. He was angry and every muscle was tense. It was like being leaned on by a very heavy, warm brick. A sexy brick.

 

I’d never attended the meeting of any hate group—being half-Indian and not quite human, I’d have been pretty out of place. But I hadn’t been expecting a meeting conducted with all the passion and violence of a chess club. Okay, less passion and violence than a chess club.

 

It is generally a bad thing when someone hunting you is polite. It means they are sure they can take you anytime they want to.


(...) he sighed and heaved me up with more effort than I knew he felt. He was a werewolf; he could probably pick up a piano. My weight wasn't enough to make him sweat.

 

Maybe he’d change his mind, but I’d known him for a long time and he was as changeable as a boulder. You might move him with a bulldozer, but that was about it.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2008
Seria: Mercy Thompson
Tom 3

'Blood Bound' Patricia Briggs

Blood Bound  - Patricia Briggs

Like most people who own their own businesses, I work long hours that start early in the morning. So when someone calls me in the middle of the night, they'd better be dying.

 

Never trust a mechanic who drives new cars. They're either charging too much money for their work, or they can't keep an old car running—maybe both.

 

"(...) What is the use of having a man in the house, if he cannot take care of you for a while?"
" Mmm," I said. "I give up. What's the use of having a man in the house?"

 

" Mmm." I said, leaning against Warren to get a better look at the food. "Mongolian beef. I think I'm in love."
"His heart's occupied elsewhere," said Ben from behind me. "And even if it weren't he's not interested in your kind. But, I'm available and ready."
"You don't have a heart," I told him. "Just a gaping hole where it should have been."
"All the more reason for you to give me yours."
I pounded my forehead against Warren's back. "Tell me Ben's not flirting with me."
"Hey," said Ben sounding hurt. "I was talking cannibalism, not romance."

 

He'd been warning me about "pushing buttons" for as long as I could remember. I don't know why. I'm not stupid. I'm always careful when I torment werewolves...

 

But then he said, "Good girl," and hung up.
As if he'd never doubted I'd do as he told me. Bran seldom had to worry about people not following his orders—except for me. I guess he'd forgotten about that.
It was a good thing there weren't any werewolves around to annoy. I'd like to think I was grown-up enough not to pick a fight just because Bran told me not to, but, still...

 

"If you were a real Indian, you could do a rain dance."
Tony could tease me because his Venezuelan half was mostly Indian of one sort or other.
I shook my head solemnly. "In Montana, the Indians don't have a rain dance, they have a Stop-this-Damned-Wind-and-Snow dance. If you've ever been to Browning, Montana, in the winter, you'll know it doesn't work."

 

"He seemed less intense than Adam Hauptman."
That was Bran, quiet and calm until he ripped out your throat.

 

"Then why didn't Marsilia just come herself?" I asked.
His jaw dropped in genuine shock. "Marsilia is a lady. Women do not belong in combat."
"So you brought me instead?"
He opened his mouth then closed it again, looking a little embarrassed by what he'd been about to say to me.
"What?" I asked, beginning to be a little amused — which was better than terrified. "Isn't it polite to tell someone she's expendable because she's not a vampire?"

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2007
Seria: Mercy Thompson
Tom 2

'Moon Called' Patricia Briggs

Moon Called (Mercedes Thompson, #1) - Patricia Briggs

MS. THOMPSON, it said in heavy block letters, PLEASE KEEP YOUR FELINE OFF MY PROPERTY. IF I SEE IT AGAIN, I WILL EAT IT.

 

“My great-grandfather’s uncle was a werewolf,” I said. “It was supposed to be a family secret, but it’s hard to keep secrets from my mother. She just smiles at people, and they tell her their life stories.

 

“Mine,” he said.
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so. She is mine.”
It would have been flattering, I thought, except that at least one of them was talking about dinner and I wasn't certain about the other.

 

My foster mother had liked to say, “Never starve a werewolf, or he might ask you to join him for lunch.” She’d always pat her husband on the head afterward, even if he was in human form.

 

My foster mother always laughed and said it was his reputation for knowing everything that allowed him to appear infallible: all he had to do was walk through the room and see who looked guiltiest when they saw him. Maybe she was right, but I tried looking innocent the next time, and it didn't work.

 

Bran was the only person I knew who could use words like “blackguard” and make them sound like swear words—but then he could have said “bunny rabbit” in that tone of voice and weakened my spine with the same shiver of fear.

 

I stalked around the front of the bus. The only reason I wasn't muttering under my breath was because the werewolves would all hear what I was saying.

 

Samuel levered his bulk up on the front passenger seat and stuck his head out the window, flattening his ears against the tear of the wind.
“Stop that,” I chided him. “Keep all your body parts in the van.”
He ignored me and opened his mouth, letting his tongue get swept back like his ears. After a while, he pulled his head in and grinned at me.
“I've always wanted to do that,” I confessed. “Maybe when this is all over, you can drive, and I’ll stick my head out the window.”

 

“I've never heard you swear before,” said Jesse, sounding a little better. “At least not like that.”
“Power words. Without which mechanics the world over would be lost.” Warren’s tone was light (...)

 

(...) I try not to worry about one impossible task until I've completed the first.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2006
Seria: Mercy Thompson
Tom 1

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'Dead Ever After' Charlaine Harris

Dead Ever After - Charlaine Harris

“She’s not out to get me?” Your life was not right when you were actually surprised that someone didn't want to kill you.

 

“I’d heard that there was a devil in New Orleans,” he said.
“The Devil? Or a devil?” Amelia asked.
“What an excellent question,” Mr. Cataliades said. “In fact, a devil. The Devil himself seldom makes a personal appearance. You can imagine the crowds.”
None of us knew quite what to say, so perhaps we couldn't.

 

“Just don’t let it happen again. This is the one and only time I’m scrubbing blood out of your kitchen,” Michele said. She was smiling. But she meant it.
“Oh, I can promise it will be,” I said. “I’ll call someone else next time.” They laughed, and I smiled back. Ha effing ha.

 

I thought the cowboy boots would come off, but they didn't, and I spared a sliver of a second to wish I’d taken the jeans option for the bar. No, I’d wanted to look cute, and here I was, running through a cornfield in danger of getting killed in a flirty skirt and a formerly white eyelet blouse. Plus, my arm was bleeding. Thank God there weren't any vamps after me.
I wanted away from the light. I wanted to find a place to hunker down. Or a house full of shotguns, that would be good.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2013
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 13

'Deadlocked' Charlaine Harris

Deadlocked - Charlaine Harris

“What … wait! You thinking Sam and I are fooling around in the office?” Despite Mustapha’s warning, I was genuinely astonished. “Honey, we are filling out tax forms. If you think there’s anything sexy about that, you should get a job with the IRS!”

 

“So,” I said in a very reasonable voice, “Here’s a chance to rise above circumstances, to prove what you’re made of, and to help save both our lives. And that’s what I’ll do, because Gran raised me right. But when this is over …” I’ll rip his damn head off. “No, I won’t,” I admonished myself. “We’ll talk about it.”
THEN I’ll rip his head off.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2012
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 12

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'Dead Reckoning' Charlaine Harris

Dead Reckoning  - Charlaine Harris

"(...) I mean, how many enemies can I have?”
I heard Amelia take a long breath. “Don’t answer that,” I said hastily.

 

For a long, long moment I just sat naked in a heap on the packed dirt and panted, trying to catch up with myself. I hadn't moved that fast, that long, since . . . since the last time I’d been running from someone who wanted to kill me.
I thought, I've got to change my way of life.

 

He wanted to get paid, so he wanted to deliver me. To whom? Dammit, he wasn't thinking about that. My heart sank, though I would have sworn it was already down to my toes. My bare toes. I was glad I’d painted my toenails recently. Irrelevant!

 

I held as still as a mouse, tried to breathe shallowly and silently. I thought how bad Bill would feel if they killed me right next to him. Irrelevant!

 

“I feel very old.”
“You are very old-fashioned.” He was ancient-fashioned.

 

So my to-do list was like: Today, complete all preparations for the baby shower. Tonight, kill Victor. Tomorrow, guests arrive for shower.

 

“(...) what shall we do with the body?”
Maybe I should install a crematorium in my backyard.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2011
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 11

'Dead in the Family' Charlaine Harris

Dead in the Family - Charlaine Harris

(...) I would’ve picked up the phone to call Eric. I would’ve asked him to bring a shovel and come to help me dig a body up. That was what a boyfriend should do, right?

 

“At that first national meeting, about three hundred years ago, there were many disagreements.” Eric looked very, very serious.
“No, really?” Vampires arguing? I could yawn.

 

“Well, it was a busy summit,” Eric conceded.
What with the bombs, and the explosions, and all.

 

It was not a great commentary on my life that the prospect of meeting with a bunch of unhappy Weres seemed like a good time—or at least an interesting time.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2010
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 10

'Dead and Gone' Charlaine Harris

Dead And Gone  - Charlaine Harris

Bobby Burnham was an asshole. Maybe Eric had gotten him on sale?

 

Felicia, the bartender, looked unhappy when she saw me. She found something to do that involved crouching down out of my sight. I had an unfortunate history with the bartenders of Fangtasia.

 

This was making as much of the moment as I could, short of getting on my knees and crawling over to him, which I would do when hell froze over.

 

“Eric, when I’m back to being myself, I’m going to nail your ass for putting me in this position of being pledged to you.”
“Darling, you can nail my ass anytime,” he said charmingly, (...)

 

I'd never levitated before, but I think I did then, rising about six inches off the low folding chaise. I squawked, too.

 

I added to my mental list of the odd things I’d done that day. I’d entertained the police, sunbathed, visited at a mall with some fairies, weeded, and killed someone. Now it was powdered corpse removal time. And the day wasn't over yet.

 

We left it that I would call him when I had “some free time.” (That actually meant “when no one’s trying to kill me,” but I didn't explain that to Remy.)

 

Of course, killing the enemy beat the alternative: letting them catch me and do what they wished with me.

 

Today was going to be a hard day, and I always felt better when I was dressed while handling a crisis. Something about putting on my underwear makes me feel more capable.

 

I inserted the key and turned it, and the motor turned over. I didn't blow up. There was no Tyrannosaurus in my rearview mirror.
So far, so good.

 

Plus, she was wearing a body stocking, or something very like one, and she looked good in it, which in and of itself was enough to make me hate her.

 

Maxwell Lee said, “I never had a fairy.”
“Yum,” Pam said, and it was the most eloquent “yum” I've ever heard.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2009
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 9

'From Dead to Worse' Charlaine Harris

From Dead to Worse  - Charlaine Harris

With my boobs, the slut factor kicks in if I’m not careful.

 

He gave me a huge tip, and I glanced down to see that in my hurry to get downstairs I’d skipped a button. I was showing a little extra cleavage. I was momentarily embarrassed, but it wasn't a slutty button, just a “Hey, I've got boobs” button. So I let it be.

 

I looked over the inside of the white car quickly but didn't see an envelope marked “Revelation of who hired me, in case I get caught.”

 

If you find yourself considering who to take for a lover because of his ability to defend you, you’re getting pretty close to selecting a mate because you think he has desirable traits to pass along to future generations.

 

“Oh, no, not a date,” I said, sounding unconvincing even to myself. “No guy-girl action going on. Just, you know, hanging out.” Kissing. Getting shot.

 

When I’d stormed out, I hadn't been thinking about what would happen next. It’s the ruin of a good exit when you have to go back and look in the phone book for a cab company.

 

After all, if someone came through the door of Merlotte’s trying to shoot me down, Sam at least deserved to know why his bar was full of holes.

 

He can change into anything. He prefers the form of a dog, because dogs are familiar and friendly and people don’t shoot at them too often.

 

The days Eric had stayed with me—well, the nights—we’d done a lot of talking and a lot of sexing. And it had been wonderful. The companionship. The sex. The laughing. The sex. The conversations. The . . . well.

 

I suspected his outlook was, “I’ll take your eye ahead of time, just in case you want mine.”

 

"(...) Vampires and fairies don’t interact, because of the vampire tendency to eat fairies.”

 

The king wore a cape—no kidding, a real full-length black cape. I’ll tell you how impressive he was; I didn't even think of giggling.

 

“And then heads are going to roll.” Eric was good at setting heads to rolling. It was one of his favorite things.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2008
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 8

'All Together Dead' Charlaine Harris

All Together Dead  - Charlaine Harris

Andre scared me down to my polished pink toenails.

 

That was just like Jason: come in an hour to a ceremony planned at the last minute for the worst possible reason, and don’t be late! At least he hadn't asked me to bring a cake.

 

“Listen,” Selah said. “Let me be frank.”
Oh, boy. In my experience, that meant, “Let me be openly mean.”

 

With that unchristian dig, I spun on my heel and walked out of the bar, thankful I’d already gotten my purse from Sam’s office. Nothing’s worse than having to stop in the middle of a righteous walkout.

 

And then he was gone.
“Well,” I said out loud, unhappy with the quiver in my voice. “As exits go, that was a good one.” It was pretty hard to have the last word with a vampire.

 

Diantha didn't believe in breathing while she talked. Now she said, “Goodtoseeya.”

 

“I had some disagreements with business associates here, and it seemed a good time to…”
“Get the heck out of the city?” I supplied helpfully.
“Run like hell?” Diantha suggested.
“Take the money and vanish?” Mr. Cataliades said.
“All of the above,” said Johan Glassport with the faintest trace of a smile.

 

Rasul popped up at my elbow. He smiled when I jumped. Those vamps. Gotta love their sense of humor.

 

When someone tells a vampire to be quiet, you can be sure the silence is absolute. Vampires don’t have to fidget, sigh, sneeze, cough, or blow their nose like people do. I felt noisy just breathing.

 

Okay, standing in a roomful of vampires and interrupting their ritual was a pretty good way to get bloodstains all over my beautiful new dress.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2007
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 7

'Definitely Dead' Charlaine Harris

Definitely Dead  - Charlaine Harris

His own hand was warm and hard. He could crack my bones with it.
The average woman would not be pondering how fast her date could kill her.

 

The kind of thing I was scared of wasn't going to be intimidated by a light. I'd just be able to see it better before it ate me.

 

"This woman has been mine, and she will be mine," he said, in tones so definite I thought about checking my rear end for a brand.

 

Since he was a man with a powerful protective urge, he stepped ahead of me, in front of me.
So of course, we were attacked from behind.

 

He liked me, too; right at the moment, he liked me a whole bunch. He wanted to like me right up against the wall.

 

Was this the second body I'd found in a closet, or the third? I wondered why I even opened closet doors any more.

 

I really like cats. So did Bubba, but not in the same way.

 

"Well, at least the rain's over with," I said. At that moment, it began to rain again.

 

"Do you like what you see?" he asked.
"Oh, boy," I said. "You look better than a Happy Meal to a three-year-old."

 

He rubbed his huge head against me, almost knocking me down, and he purred. He sounded like a happy Geiger counter.

 

I clutched my little evening bag closer to me, wishing there was something more lethal in it than a few small items like a compact and a lipstick, and a tampon.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2006
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 6

'Londyn we krwi' James Craig

Londyn we krwi - James Craig

Zgodnie z regułą 50 stron (czyli jeśli po 50 stronach nadal zmuszam się do czytania, to nie warto marnować czasu), daję sobie spokój z tą książką.

Niesmaczne, wstrząsające, bardzo graficznie opisane sceny morderstw. Przeplatane fragmentami przedstawiającym bohaterów w sposób zbyt rozwlekły i mało sensowny, raz przeszłość, raz przyszłość, raz wycinek gazetowy, raz dialog, który jest zwyczajnie absurdalny.

Ani to ciekawe, ani inteligentne. 

'Dead as a Doornail' Charlaine Harris

Dead as a Doornail  - Charlaine Harris

The first guess as to where Jason was always involved a woman, and the second guess usually included another woman.


He had a slight accent. English was not his second language, of course; it was maybe his twenty-fifth.

 

"And what happened to you?" I asked politely, meaning how did he come to depart his wonderful warm-blooded life of rapine and slaughter for the vampire edition of the same thing.


Vampires didn't always pay attention to fast-food restaurants, because they didn't eat. (Hey, how many blood banks can you locate off the top of your head?)


“I last saw her . . .” (with half her head gone, sprawled on my kitchen floor, her legs tangled up in the legs of a chair) “Let me think. . . . As she left the party that night. (...)"

 

I didn't know what to say. Could I tell them I was sorry their loved one was dead, when he'd tried to kill me? There was no rule of etiquette for this; even my grandmother would have been stymied.


Andy did not have any very high opinion of me, though he’d always been a big fan of my rear end. It’s wonderful being telepathic, huh?


I remembered my New Year’s Eve resolution: I wanted not to get beaten up. Note to self: I should have included “shot.”


He was wearing a golden brown silk T-shirt and brown pleated trousers with a magnificent belt that was just barbaric: lots of leather, and gold, and dangling tassels. You can take the man out of the Viking era, but you can’t take the Viking out of the man.


“Franklin has an outdated mind-set.”
This was rich, coming from a Viking warrior whose happiest days had been spent pillaging and raping and laying waste.


Food that walked and talked, that was us. McPeople.


Amazingly, no one woke me all night. No one died, there weren't any fires, and no one had to alert me to any emergency.


The next time someone told me I had to watch a supernatural rite, I was going to tell him I had to wash my hair.

 

Data pierwszego wydania: 2005
Seria: Sookie Stackhouse (Southern Vampire)
Tom 5

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