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Love is a terrible weakness. It gives your enemies a perfect target, clouds your judgement, makes you reckless... and that's on a good day.

Jeaniene Frost

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Jeaniene Frost
Age: 50
Born: 1974
Born: June 13
Author
Novelist
Writer
the United States of America
Love
Weakness
Gives
Terrible
Enemy
Reckless
Perfect
Judgement
Makes
Target
Giving
Enemies
Good
Clouds

More quotes by Jeaniene Frost

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Brush teeth. Wash hair. Rule undead world with an iron fist.
Jeaniene Frost
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Cat cleared her throat in the tense silence that followed. Uh, before this goes any further, let’s at least introduce ourselves to your friend. I’m Cat, and this is my husband, Bones. We’re part of Mencheres’ twisted little fang family.
Jeaniene Frost
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I'd address his way of trying to discourage Ian later. After all, he could have come up with something other than saying I was a whiny, smelly, trumpet-snoring bad lay.
Jeaniene Frost
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And that, Annette, is called Pilates
Jeaniene Frost
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I told you once before,” I said, the words husky from remembrance. “Everyone holds their sins close to their skin.” Fangs gleamed for an instant before Vlad bit into his wrist, pooling up two deep crimson holes. “Then come,” he said, holding it out. “And taste mine.
Jeaniene Frost
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Bones leaned back, studying me. I felt so self-conscious. If only I had a shield of makeup, some perfectly arranged hair... and oh yeah. Some panties.
Jeaniene Frost
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There were words for what he meant to me, but if I studied every language ever spoken for the next thousand years, I still wouldn’t find enough of them to describe it.
Jeaniene Frost
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Kitty need's a tounge bath
Jeaniene Frost
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Wrong way, Bones. The men's showers are in the opposite direction. I'll file that away with all the other information that doesn't pertain to me was Bones' mocking reply.
Jeaniene Frost
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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.
Jeaniene Frost
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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.
Jeaniene Frost
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Bones has always been smart, I muttered. His intelligence was just camouflaged under a mountain of p**sy. Cat
Jeaniene Frost
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Since you and Crispin are now finished and I have a few hours to kill, how about that shag?” he asked with heavy irony. “Bite me,” I sighed, gathering up the pages. He winked. “Of course. My second-favorite thing to do in bed.
Jeaniene Frost
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Mencheres dropped his hands from my shoulders. “You know that’s what he wants. He’ll want to trade, you for her.” “Then I’ll do it,” I said. Bones’s grip on me turned to steel. “No, you won’t.
Jeaniene Frost
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Bubbles. On a scale of one to ten, a bubble bath has to rank zero as far as things I'd expect an older-than-dirt-badass vampire to indulge in. The only thing that would surprise me more would be if you pulled out a rubber ducky. -Kira to Mencheres
Jeaniene Frost
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Luscious, aren't I, poppet? Go on, stare. I don't mind.” -“You look like a Dracula porn movie reject” -“Let‟s not speak of him. Like the devil, Vlad might appear if we do.” Denise & Ian
Jeaniene Frost
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Bring me liquor, Bones, fast, to take my foot out of my mouth. Cat to Bones
Jeaniene Frost
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Trying to wake you,” Bones answered crisply. “I cut you, threw water on you, slapped you, and set a lighter to your legs. For future reference, which one of those do you think worked?” “Good God,” I hissed. “No wonder I thought you were Death incarnate in my dream, and that made me run toward Gregor at first!
Jeaniene Frost
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The clock struck eleven and cat the vampire huntress was on the loose, except my battle armor was a push-up bra, curled hair, and a short dress. Yeah, it was a dirty job, but I was going to do it. Come one, come all, bloodsuckers! Bar’s open!
Jeaniene Frost
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Mencheres slid through the water toward her, drawn by the same inexorable compulsion that led moths to dance with flames. He'd had several lifetimes' worth of reason, cold machinations, and, ultimately, emptiness. Perhaps the moths knew what he didn't, that the joy of the flame was worth the price of destruction.
Jeaniene Frost