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Reading "Clean Sweep" by Ilona Andrews made me want to re-read the Keeper series by Tanya Huff. I might get to it over the break but in the meantime, I've been poking through the first book, "Summon the Keeper". It was hard to pick just one quote, there are so many good ones. Claire is a supernatural, a Keeper, whose job it is to keep order and fight evil, and Dean is the handyman and chef at the inn Claire owns; he's just found out about the supernatural world and is still adjusting.
"I could really use that coffee," Claire prodded, taking his arm and propelling him toward the door.
"Right." Coffee, he understood, although, since he'd thought he understood wardrobes, coffee would probably also be subject to change without notice. "We, uh, need to work out your meals."
"What's there to work out? You do your job, I'll do mine. You cook, I'll eat."
"Cook what?" Dean insisted. "And when?"
Suddenly aware she still had fingers wrapped around the warm, resilient curve of a bicep, Claire snatched her hand back. "I'll eat anything, I'm not fussy, but I can't cope with brussel sprouts, raw zucchini, dried soup mixes, and anything orange. Except oranges."
"Anything orange except oranges," he repeated. "so carrots..."
"Are out. For as long as I'm here, lunch at noon, supper at five-thirty, so I can watch the news at six. I'll have cold cereal or toast for breakfast and that I can make myself."
"You're after saving the world on a bowl of cold cereal?"
"I'd really rather you didn't start sounding like my mother," she told him sharply, stepping out into the office just as the outside door opened.
*****************In this scene and the next, Hell is arguing with itself. The scenes with Hell make me laugh every time.ANOTHER KEEPER!IT'S A CHILD. KEEP YOUR MIND ON YOUR WORK.BUT THERE'S TWO OF THEM!AND THERE'S VERY NEARLY AN INFINITE AMOUNT OF ME.The rest of Hell considered the implied threat. GOOD POINT.****HEY! WHO TIDIED THE BRIMSTONE?****Dean didn't so much regain consciousness as hijack it; consciousness wanted nothing to do with the whole situation.HOW YA DOIN' GORGEOUS?
He'd have jerked back at the sound of the voice, but he couldn't figure out how to operate his body. Which scared him a lot more than Hell. He had a friend, Paul Malan, who'd gone into the boards at the wrong angle and now Paul played ball hockey from a wheelchair.
HE'S IGNORING US!
CAN HE DO THAT?
HEY, BUDDY! IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, THIS IS A LOT WORSE THAN BALL HOCKEY!
Thankful that somewhere along the way he'd lost his glasses, Dean ignored the voices because Claire had asked him to. She'd even said, "please."
He blinked, hit by a sudden realization. The voice he'd heard yesterday in the hall had been the voice of the pit.
And he'd listened. He'd hesitated.
OH, FOR...SIX SECONDS OUT OF TWENTY SQUEAKY CLEAN YEARS!
He deserved to go to Hell.
YOU'RE KIDDING, RIGHT?
Except he didn't want to die.
This is a phenomenal series, go read it!