I had a furry mouth and a hangover that was as much psychological as physical. Or animistic, maybe: a hangover of the spirit. How the hell do you cure that? A hair of the god that bit you?
I'd passed three other cameras on the way up, of course, so he knew damn well it was me, but Nicky likes to remind you that Big Brother is watching. It's not a matter of security - although he takes his security more seriously than Imelda Marcos takes her footwear; it's more the statement of a philosophical position.
Or, some would say, more controversially:
I don't buy the tarot for the same reason that I don't buy religion: the hopes and fears of ordinary people stick up out of the miracles like bones out of a spavined horse.
These quotes are some I picked fairly much at random, flicking through pages from "Vicious Circle", the second book in Carey's series of Felix Castor novels. The genre is urban fantasy - think spooky things (in this case, exorcists, ghosts, demons, succubi and loup-garous - were-beings) roaming more-or-less contemporary urban settings, such as London. Another favourite author of mine in the genre is Patricia Briggs: werewolves, vampires and shape-shifting coyotes running around the Tri-Cities area in the States.
Anyway, Mike Carey: you are the master of grittily realistic and pithily descriptive phrases. I'd take my hat off to you ... hmm: it may be potentially hazardous to perform any cliched act in your vicinity! What would Felix Castor do? Say something smart, and slouch away.
Ah well, I can manage the latter.
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