Mab from SK:
In the ruins of my office stood a woman with the kind of beauty that makes men murder friends and start wars.
She stood by my desk with her arms folded, facing the door, hips cocked to one side, her expression skeptical. She had white hair. Not white-blond, not platinum. White as snow, white as the finest marble, bound up like a captured cloud to bare the lines of her slender throat. I don't know how her skin managed to look pale beside that hair but it did. Her lips were the color of frozen mulberries, almost shocking in a smooth and lovely face, and her oblique eyes were a deep green that tinted to blue when she tilted her head and looked me over. She wasn't old. Wasn't young. Wasn;t anything but stunning.
I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor and forced my brain to start doing something by taking stock of her wardrobe. She wore a woman;s suit of charcoal grey, the cut immaculate. The skirt showed exactly enough leg to make it hard not to look, and her dark pumps had heels just high enough to give you ideas. She wore a bone-white V-neck beneath her jacket, the neckline dipping just low enough to make me want to be watching if she took a deep breath. Opals set in silver flashed on her ears, at her throat, glittering through an array of colors I wouldn't have expected from opals-too many scarlets and violets and deep blues. Her nails had somehow been lacquered in the same opalescence.
.... I believe you are lat," she replied. Sommerset had a voice like her outfit-rich, suggestive, cultured. Her English had an accent I couldn't place. Maybe European. Definitely interresting....
and if you have not read my Signature before.
"Maybe I'd been shut away in my lab too long, but Spenser never mentions that the Faerie Queen has a great ass."
Also her eyes were a glimmer during this scene, far as I can tell they are pretty much the same except they are cat-like as Lea's are.