Curtsey of the excerpt from the back of The City of Glass:
"Nice, he said. "Graceful as a falling snowflake."
"Was I screaming?" she asked, genuinely curious. "You know, on the way down?"
He nodded. "Thankfully no one's home or they would have assumed I was murdering you."
"Ha. You can't even reach me." She kicked out a leg and spun lazily in midair.
Jace's eyes glinted. "Want to bet?"
Clary knew that expression. "No," she said, quickly. "What ever you're going to do-"
But he'd already done it. When Jace moved fast, his individual movements were almost invisible- she saw his hand go to his belt, and then something flashed into the air. She heard the sound of parting fabric as the cord above her head was sheared through. Released, she fell free, too surprised to scream- directly into Jace's arms. The knocked him backward and they sprawled together onto one of the padded floor mats, Clary on top of him. He grinned up at her.
"Now," he said, "that was much better. You didn't even scream at all."
"I didn't get the chance." She was a breathless, and not just from the impact of the fall. Being sprawled on top of Jace, feeling his body against hers, made her mouth grow dry and her heart beat faster. She had thought maybe her physical reaction to him-their reactions to each other- would fade with familiarity, but that hadn't happened. If anything, it had gotten worse-or better, she supposed, depending on how you thought about it.
The Curtsey of Cassandra Clare as the September excerpts:
“You think you’re a vampire,” Simon’s mother said, numbly.“You think you drink blood.”“I do drink blood,” Simon said. “I drink animal blood.”“But you’re a vegetarian.” His mother looked to be on the verge of tears.“I was. I’m not now. I can’t be. Blood is what I live on.” Simon’sthroat felt tight. “I’ve never hurt anyone. I’d never drink someone’s blood. I’m still the same person. I’m still me.”
His mother seemed to be fighting for control. “Your new friends — are they vampires, too?”Simon thought of Isabelle, Maia, Jace. He couldn’t explain Shadowhunters and werewolves, too. It was too much. “No. But — they know I am one.”“Did — did they give you drugs? Make you take something? Something that would make you hallucinate?”“No. Mom, this is real.”“It’s not real,” she whispered. “You think it’s real. Oh, God. Simon. I’m so sorry. I should have noticed. We’ll get you help. We’ll find someone. A doctor. Whatever it costs —”“I can’t go to a doctor.”“Yes, you can. You need to be somewhere. A hospital, maybe —”He held out his wrist to her. “Feel my pulse,” he said.She looked at him, bewildered. “What?”“My pulse,” he said. “Take it. If I have one, okay. I’ll go to the hospital with you. If not, you have to believe me.”She wiped the tears from her eyes and slowly reached to take his wrist.
And third and final one, which will really only make any sense to those who've read Clockwork Angel:
"Camille,” Magnus said. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
She smiled. Her skin looked whiter than he recalled, and dark spidery veins were beginning to show beneath its surface. Her hair was still the color of spun silver and her eyes were still green as a cat’s. She was still beautiful. Looking at her, he was in London again. He saw the gaslight and smelled the smoke and dirt and horses, the metallic tang of fog, the flowers in Kew Gardens. He saw a boy with black hair and blue eyes like Alec’s, heard violin music like the sound of silver water. He saw a girl with long brown hair and a serious face. In a world where everything went away from him eventually, she was one of the few remaining constants.
And then there was Camille.
“I’ve missed you, Magnus,” she said.
For those of you wanting to relive some of the monthly teasers, or who missed some before, they're all listed on Cassandra Clare's Blog.