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Killing your rival doesn’t guarantee happiness. Sometimes it ruins any chance you have of it instead. Memories of dead men hold far more power than the annoyances of living ones.

Jeaniene Frost

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Jeaniene Frost
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: June 13
Author
Novelist
Writer
the United States of America
Rivals
Men
Dead
Guarantee
Memories
Guarantees
Chance
Ruins
Happiness
Killing
Living
Annoyances
Doesn
Ones
Annoyance
Power
Instead
Rival
Sometimes
Hold

More quotes by Jeaniene Frost

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You hold the ones you love close and fight the battles you can win, and that, Kitten, is how it is.
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Anytime you want to lay off the paybacks God, that'd be great.
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It must be important or he wouldn't dare disturb me now,” he muttered. Then he drew away to look at me. “If it's not, I'll kill him and return to you directly.
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Be good only if being bad ain't more fun.
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Kitten, your hands are heaven and your eyes are my home.
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All the rest of the world could only kill or devastate my mind and body. Bones alone held the power to demolish my soul.
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It hasn't escaped my notice that you only compliment me when you're intoxicated.
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Charlie whistled Amazing Grace as he drove. It was all I could do not to whip my head around and snap, Are you kidding me? Couldn't he pick something more appropriate, like Shout at the Devil or Don't fear the Reaper? Some people had no sense of the proper music for a kidnapping.
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Because, Cat, it’s the feminine persuasion that’s always the deadliest.
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Do you think I’m pretty?” I heard myself ask. Something I couldn’t name flashed across his face. “No. I don’t think you’re pretty. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
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You messed with the wrong white girl, motherfucker!” Tyler shouted.
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Odd that I couldn’t catch any of your dream,” Bones went on. “Normally your dreams are like background music to me.
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Any situation was better faced with an empty bladder, a clean body, and a lack of morning breath.
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He looked at the box with interest. 'Well, well. Five speeds. Heat and massage. Deep, penetrating action. Sure this isn't yours?
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This wasn't the first time I'd woken up as a captive. It wasn't even the second. I so needed to reevaluate my life choices.
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Why did you tell her I'm your boyfriend? Why doesn't she know about your real one? - Timmy He's English! And Mom...Mom hates foreigners! - Cat
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Get stuffed, don't you have more publicity stunts to pull? Bones shot back. How about chatting with another writer who can smear your name into greater popularity? What, did Anne Rice not return your calls, mate? Vlad asked scathingly. Jealousy is such an ugly trait.
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But-but…” Timmie’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Why did you tell her I’m your boyfriend? Why doesn’t she know about your real one?” That was a good question. I cast around for an answer. Any answer. “He’s English!” I settled on desperately. “And Mom…Mom hates foreigners!
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I’d gone heavy on the black eye makeup until raccoons and I could pass for cousins.
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Good. If you checked your e-mail every five minutes, or keep texting and Tweeting in the middle of our conversation, I might snap your neck out of sheer principle.
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