“The Tuatha De do not speak of Tuatha De matter to"--he gave her an icy sneer--"mere mortals.""Well, mister-mere-mortal-yourself," she bristled right back at him, "maybe you'd better get used to it, because whether or not you like it, you need at least one of us 'mere mortals' to help you become a pompous-asshole-fairy-thing again."He tried to maintain his icy stare, but his lips curved despite his efforts and he shook with silent laughter. A pompous-asshole-fairy-thing. The indignity of it. Had any of his race ever been called such a thing? Nothing cowed the woman. Nothing. "Point made, ky-lyrra," he said dryly.-Gabrielle and Adam”

“He was another person, despite his firm decision and anguished effort to continue to be the same man he had been before his mortal encounter with love.The truth is that he was never the same again. Winning back Fermina Daza was the sole purpose of his life”

“She glanced pointedly at the flopping tadpole."What?""Take it back.""You're kidding, right?" he said disbelievingly."Do we have time?"He considered that. "Yes, but--""Then, no I'm not.""That lake was three hops ago," he said impatiently."If you don't take it back it's going to die, and while you may think it's just a pathetic little thing with an abbreviated little life that hardly even signifies in the fairy scheme of things, I'll bet in the tadpole scheme of things it's really looking forward to becoming a frog. Now take it back. A life is a life. I don't care how tiny an almighty fairy thinks it is."One dark brow arched and he inclined his head. "Yes, Gabrielle." Scooping up the tadpole in one big hand, gently enough that it gave her pause, he popped out.-Gabrielle and Adam Black”

“No one, it appears, took up his offer to commercialize his invention; like other inventions of his, it worked well for him, but mere mortals found the instructions too complicated.”

“And another thing—when you talk to that pompous ass on the phone, do not go all syrupy.” He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her from his superior height. “Syrupy?” she echoed indignantly, outraged at the accusation. “I never sound syrupy.” Her large eyes flashed a warning at him, daring him to pursue his point.He dared to. “Oh yes, you do.” He clasped his hands together and made a face, his voice rising an octave as he simpered. “Oh, Marie, the flowers are so beautiful. Thomas Ivan gave them to me.” He rolled his eyes as he mimicked her.”

“What do you do for Nigel Jennings?"There was no pause at all. "I'm his tailer," he answered immediately."You're nothing of the sort."Rupert gave her a cheeky grin. "Meant to say, he's my tailor."She cast him a thoughtful look. "Interesting that you would lie about it.""You call joking lying?""Evasion is a form of deceit.""Interesting that you would see it that way." He gave her back her own words. She almost laughed.While he hadn't answered her question any more truthfully than she had answered his, he surprised her by not pursuing his inquiry about why she had been on Wigmore Street. Fingering a white silk yarn within his reach, he said, "I'll take a vest in this if you run out of ideas to ply your needle toward."She couldn't help but grin. "Will you indeed? But that implies a gift-"He cut in, "Consider it an early Christmas present," and actually sounded serious."I don't make presents for mere aquaintances.""We're more'n that.""We aren't.""Of course we are,or do you make a habit of kissing mere aquaintances?"She huffed. "You did the kissing, not I."He was grinning again. "You fully participated,Becca. Don't even try to deny it.”