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And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.
Jennifer Estep
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Jennifer Estep
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Author
Writer
Grabbed
Hammer
Hammers
Hand
Face
Faces
Left
Smashed
Hands
Snapped
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I know that look. What are you up to, Gwen? What makes you think I'm up to something? The Valkyrie snorted. You're breathing, aren't you?
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My heart lifted, and a matching grin curved my lips. He wanted to see me again. Maybe he really did like me after all. I felt like doing a happy dance, but of course, I was way too cool for that. I'd at least wait until I got back to my hotel room, alone, where no one would see.
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Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?
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Oh yes. You’ve caught me. I confess. My sole purpose in life is to gleefully, willfully, maniacally destroy all of your precious chrome babies.
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I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.
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But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.
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Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.” “Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows. There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter. “Shut up, idiot.
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Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.
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Finn regarded pesky little things like wedding bands, engagement rings, and jealous, hulking menfolk more as amusing challenges than immovable obstacles that could be hazardous to his health.
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He gave me his word. That means something to a man like Donovan Caine. Yeah, it means you'll realize he's an exceptionally good liar when you're clutching your intestines and choking on your own blood on his living room floor.
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Don't you agree, fuzzball?
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No matter what happens, I'll always come back to you. Promise? I asked in a shaky voice. Logan's eyes burned with icy determination. Promise.
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You're mine, Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.
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I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.
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The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.
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That was my favorite dagger. She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.
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Easy was for people too weak to suck it up and do what needed to be done. And I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.
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You're just jealous. Hardly. Been there, done you. Adequate, but unremarkable.
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Instead, I cut him. Not deep, but there was enough of a sting in the wound to remind him of what I'd done to the dwarven mobsters in the parking lot - and that I wasn't just some chick with a knife who looked good in black.
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She doesn't even know how to kill things properlike? What kind of girl have you given me to, goddess? Vic protested, fixing his eye on Nike once more. Nike let out a laugh. Vic is a little bloodthirsty. You'll get used to it.
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