Fans of Eloisa James & Julia Quinn discussion
Monday Puzzler
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20th June 2016
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I thought so too, but I have no idea. Curious to find out.

It's Magic Strikes by Ilona Andrews, the 3rd book in the series. I chose a puzzler from book 1, Magic Bites a few years ago :)

I had a feeling it was from this series. I started it but I'm not sure how far I went. I've liked what I've read so far. Thanks for sharing :-) ♥

Chocolatesoup wrote: "I'm late to the party but I recognized the scene and the couple (rest assured, Kate, holds her own in this relationship), one of my all time favorite series. Actually, I like anything by Ilona Andr..."
Same here :) I haven't re-read their Edge series, ever :D I need it!
Leigh-Ayn wrote: "Haha me too Aly!! I'm due a re-read me thinks! Haven't had one in 2016 yet lol"
You need it :))
Same here :) I haven't re-read their Edge series, ever :D I need it!
Leigh-Ayn wrote: "Haha me too Aly!! I'm due a re-read me thinks! Haven't had one in 2016 yet lol"
You need it :))
Books mentioned in this topic
Magic Strikes (other topics)Magic Bites (other topics)
Magic Strikes (other topics)
Magic Bites (other topics)
Authors mentioned in this topic
Ilona Andrews (other topics)Ilona Andrews (other topics)
“I thought you were some sort of maniac!” I growled.
“I am.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for FRIEND in your bed.”
“He isn’t here.”
“I see that.”
Little golden sparks danced in his dark gray eyes. He looked terribly pleased with himself and slightly hungry.
I squirmed away from him, but he just clamped me tighter. It felt like fighting in a straitjacket made of heated steel. There was absolutely no give in him. Pinned by his B______ M______. I’d never live that down.
“You can let me go now,” I told him.
“Do I have your permission?”
“Yes, you do. I promise not to hurt you.”
A hint of a grin curved his mouth. He had no plans to let me go. And I couldn’t outmuscle him. Crap.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He bobbed his head up and down, the smile like a smudge of white paint across his face.
“How did you get in?”
“I have my ways.”
The light dawned on me. He was the one who had replaced my door two months ago, because I was rather busy trying not to die. “You kept a key to my apartment. You bastard. How often do you come here?”
“Once in a while.”
“Why?”
“To check on you. Saves me the trouble of sitting by the phone waiting for your ‘come and rescue me’ calls.”
“You don’t have to be troubled: there won’t be any more calls. I’d rather die than call you.”
“That’s what worries me,” he said.
His legs pinned mine, his thighs hard like they were carved of wood. His chest pressed against my breasts. If I could turn a little to the right, my butt would slide against his groin. A little to the left and my face would end up in his neck.
“I’m not one of your subjects,” I told him. He was entirely too close, too warm, and too real. “I don’t follow your orders and I sure as hell don’t need your protection.”
“Mmhm,” he said. He apparently found my face incredibly fascinating, because he kept looking at me, at my eyes, at my mouth . . .
“Do you ever come here when I’m here?”
“Occasionally.”
“I would’ve heard you.”
“You put in twelve hours and get wiped out, and I’m very quiet.” His hold eased a little. I lay limp. That was it—lure him into a false sense of security. We weren’t that far from the night table, and under the table on the bottom shelf was a dagger.
“The HERO—my own personal stalker. Gee, every girl’s dream.”