Quote

Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?” he said. “This was a Fiona Fine original.

Jennifer Estep

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Jennifer Estep
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Author
Writer
Ruin
Suit
Ruins
Suits
Originals
Original
Fine
Fiona
Really
Gin

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What did you expect? That he'd send you flowers and write you bad poetry? That dead Nemean prowler is pretty much as close to a stuffed animal as you're ever going to get from a Spartan like Logan Quinn.
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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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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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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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Well, what did you have for lunch?” I snapped. “Surely that’s not top secret superhero information.” “Steak with mashed potatoes and a side salad,” Striker replied. “And a piece of chocolate cheesecake for dessert.” I gave up on conversation after that. I was too jealous of the cheesecake to continue.
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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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Are you OK? I asked. I think so. Logan stared at me, and a smile pulled up his lips. But maybe you should give me mouth-to-mouth, just to make sure.
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Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?
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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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And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.
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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 know that maniacal twinkle in your eye. You're up to something Gwen, he said.
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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 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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You're just jealous. Hardly. Been there, done you. Adequate, but unremarkable.
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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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I didn't know what would take my mind off the sexy Spartan, except for maybe a total lobotomy.
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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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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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