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“Ring for your maid, and when she comes in we'll pounce upon her and tear off her face. I'll wear her face tonight instead of mine.”
― Leonora Carrington, The Skeleton’s Holiday

“Aniki set her pot on the bench and
scooped Pounce up. “I like bad lads with black hearts,� she proclaimed.
Pounce struggled madly.
This is undignified! he said. I am not a toy!”
― Tamora Pierce, Terrier

“Pounce trotted past the newcomers, carrying a black kitten with a white bib and mittens in his mouth. The small creature hung in Pounce’s grip, ears flat, hindquarters and tail curled up. It seemed as dejected as a body could be at my cat’s handlingâ€�
My cat dropped his captive in Aniki’s lap. He then lectured her in meows, saying, I cannot let you maul me about. Do it to him.
…Kora grabbed Pounce. “Why her?� she asked, holding Pounce up. “I’m a mage. By rights I should have a cat. You like Aniki more than you like me!�
Ersken said, “I think Pounce is in a giving mood today.�
Here came my cat with a second kitten. This one was a light and dark brown ball with thin black stripes and spots. Pounce dropped it in front of Kora.”
― Tamora Pierce, Terrier

“Reaching the brow of a stunted hill, Amelia paused in bewilderment at the sight of a towering contraption made of metal. It appeared to be a chute propped up on legs, tilted at a steep angle.
Her attention was caught by a minor commotion farther afield � two men emerging from behind a small wooden shelter � they were shouting and waving their arms at her.
Amelia instantly realized she had stumbled into danger, even before she saw the smoldering trail of sparks move, snakelike, along the ground toward the metal chute.
A fuse?
Although she didn’t know much about explosive devices, she was aware that once a fuse had been lit, nothing could be done to stop it. Dropping to the sun-warmed grass, Amelia covered her head with her arms, having every expectation of being blown to bits. A few heartbeats passed, and she let out a startled cry as she felt a large, heavy body fall on hers � no, not fall, pounce. He covered her completely, his knees digging into the ground on either side of her as he made a shelter of his body.
At the same moment, a deafening explosion pierced the air, and there was a violent whoosh over their heads, and a shock went through the ground beneath them. Too stunned to move, Amelia tried to gather her wits. Her ears were filled with a high-pitched buzz.
Her companion remained motionless over her, breathing heavily in her hair. The air was sharp with smoke, but even so, Amelia was aware of a pleasant masculine scent, skin-salt and soap and an intimate spice she couldn’t quite identify. The noise in her ears faded. Raising up on her elbows, feeling the solid wall of his chest against her back, she saw shirtsleeves rolled up over forearms cabled with muscle � and there was something else �
Her eyes widened at the sight of a small, stylized design inked on his arm. A tattoo of a black winged horse with eyes the color of brimstone. It was an Irish design, of a nightmare horse called a pooka: a malevolent mythical creature that spoke in a human voice and carried people away at midnight.
Her heart stopped as she saw the heavy rounded band of a thumb ring.
Wriggling beneath him, Amelia tried to turn over.
The strong hand curved around her shoulder, helping her. His voice was low and familiar. “Are you hurt? I’m sorry. You were in the way of—�
He stopped as Amelia rolled to her back. The front of her hair had come loose, pulled free of a strategically anchored pin. The lock fanned over her face, obscuring her vision. Before she could reach up to push it away, he did it for her, and the brush of his fingertips sent ripples of liquid fire along intimate pathways of her body.
â€Ô¨´Ç³Ü,â€� he said softly.
Cam Rohan.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Mine Till Midnight