Quote

Gin! Gin, are you here?” “Right behind you,” I said. Finn shrieked and whirled around. I winced at the high-pitched sound. “Dammit, woman.” He clutched the folder to his chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

Jennifer Estep

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Jennifer Estep
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Author
Writer
Sound
Pitched
Winced
Woman
Gin
Folder
Around
Chest
Shrieked
Give
Chests
Whirled
Right
Attack
Folders
Giving
Behinds
Clutched
Heart
Behind
Dammit
Trying
High
Finn

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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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I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.” Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.” I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.” “Absolutely.
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They’d played “Sweet Home, Alabama” so many times I wanted to crash the party, kill the radio, and knife whoever was selecting the music.
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I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.
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Can you play the piano like Beethoven? Or sing like Carly Simon? Can you take fie pages' worth of quotes and turn them into a usable story ten minutes before deadline? I don't think so, unless you have more hidden talents I don't know about. We all have our special sills. They don't make us better or worse than each other. Just different
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I used to murder people for money, but these days it’s more of a survival technique.
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I will destroy you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what it costs me. I won’t sleep, I won’t eat. I won’t do anything but plot your downfall. I will mow down your men like they’re weeds. I’ll kill so many of them so viciously, so brutally, so horribly that no one will dare to work for you. And sooner or later, I’ll get you too.
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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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I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.
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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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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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The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.
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I eat haughty, arrogant, manipulative, self-important bitches like you for breakfast, sugar. And then I go back for seconds.
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Jasmine smirke at the weapon in my hand. That little toothpick won't save you, Gypsy. Touthpick? Vic muttered in an indignant voice. “Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!
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There's nothing I can do that's going to drive you away, is there? I murmured. Owen flashed me a sly grin. Finally figuring that out, are you? I nodded. His grin deepened. Well, it sure took you long enough.
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Have I ever told you how scary it is that you think of heels in terms of their possible shiv potential?
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And I was stuck here at Warrior Freaks R Us.
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Hey, are you okay?”he asked “Nickamedes told me what happened with Preston. He and the others were worried about you. They’re out looking for you, along with Daphne, Carson, and Oliver.”I let out a bitter laugh.“I must have really freaked them out if Nickamedes was worried about me.
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I'm crazy about you, Spartan.
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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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