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He's into you, isn't he. Answer the question, Marissa. Flyboy with the superhero plasma... he wants you, doesn't he? -Butch and Marissa
J.R. Ward
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J.R. Ward
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More quotes by J.R. Ward
You going to try the rest of your gear on? he asked on an exhale. Or you want to whine about your pants a little more? Don't make me flip you off. Why would I deprive you of a favorite hobby? [Vishous to Butch]
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If I can live through the events,” she said, “I can get through the memories.
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Some things are destined to be -- it just takes us a couple of tries to get there.
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Is he Catholic? her grandmother asked on the way out. He's a drug dealer -- so if he is religious, he's got incredible powers of reconciliation. He looks like a good boy, her vovo said over her shoulder. A good Catholic boy. And that was that -- for now.
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Indeed, Xcor stayed away for the wrong reason, the bad reason, an unacceptable reason—in spite of all his training, he found himself choosing Throe’s life over ambition: His anger had taken him in one direction, but his regret had led him in another. And the latter one was what won out.
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Unfortunately, beer was only a short-term answer. And head transplants had yet to be approved by the FDA.
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[...]you know what they say about messengers, right? Excuse me? Too much bad news will get you shot.[...]
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In the far corner, a tenor began to sing, Zsadist's crystal-clear voice sailing up toward the warrior paintings on the ceiling far, far above them all. At first John didn't know what the song was...although if he'd been asked what his name was, he would have said Santa Claus, or Luther Vandross, or Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe even Joan Collins.
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I liked you, cop. From the moment I met you. No… not the first moment. I wanted to kill you when I first met you. But then I liked you. A lot.
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John? As it was dark he whistled a what. You are such a male of worth, you know that. You really are.
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Vishous's chest expanded. . . and his diamond stare slowly swung to Butch. There was a heartbeat of intensity. Then V reached out and repositioned the cross so it once again hung over Butch's heart. You did well, cop. Congratulations, true?
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Tell you what, you let me go, and I’ll ask you plenty of questions about your race. Until then, I’m slightly distracted with how this little vacation on the good ship Holy Sh*t is going to pan out for me.
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Some bridges you crossed on your own, no matter who drove you to the edge
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We also mark what's ours. And as I'm not going to see you for twelve hours, I think I'll leave a little more all over you.
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