Jennifer Estep Quotes

What was it with people always trying to kill me in the library? Nickamedes so needed to put up warning signs. Danger: Working here could be hazardous to your health.

Since coming to Mythos, I'd almost been run through with a sword and mauled to death by a killer kitty cat. Dirty looks didn't faze me anymore.

I know everyone who's anyone, everyone who wants to be someone, and everyone who's not anyone too.

Kiss me or let me go. I don't care anymore.

Open sesame,' I joked. Silence. Apparently, the Reapers weren't in a joking mood.

Now, even Nickamedes was being nice to me, which told me exactly how much trouble I was in.

Gin's the toughest gal I know. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking, just like a Timex. Isn't that right, Gin?

Men. And they think that we're the weaker sex. At least we don't whine about every little thing, now, do we?

Too bad the smile was on the face of the wrong man.

The panther prowled around me in a loose, wide circle. Its mouth turned down, almost in a pout, and it seemed disappointed that I wasn't going to run away. Or scream, at the very least. Its tail, which was at least three feet long, twitched back and forth in what seemed to be annoyance. Or maybe anticipation. I didn't know. I'd always been more of a dog person.
I cleared my throat, and the panther stopped and flicked up one of its rounded ears. Listening.
Um, nice kitty?

I supposed images of an evil god who wanted to break free of his mythological prison and enslave the whole world
weren't any scarier than a guy wearing big red shoes,yellow plaid pants,and white face paint.Clowns had always creeped me out. They were so not funny.

What I can make people do . . . it's not what they want to do. It may sound corny, but I want people to like me for me, not because I can force them to or because of who my mom is or who I am in the Family. You know?"
He raised his green gaze to my blue one. "That's one of the things I like about you, Lila. You don't care about any of that."
"Just one of the things?" I teased, trying to make him laugh a little, just so he'd forget his guilt and grief, if only for a few moments.
"Just one." His voice took on a low, husky note. "I could list all the others, if you want."
My gaze locked with his and my soulsight kicked in, showing me all of his emotions. And I felt them, too - more intensely than I ever had before. His heart still ached with that soul-crushing guilt, and it always would. But that hot spark I'd seen inside him that first day at the Razzle Dazzle had finally ignited into a roaring fire, burning as hot and bright as my own emotions were right now.
Devon hesitated, then leaned in, just a little. My breath caught in my throat.
He inched forward a little more. I wet my lips.
He came even closer, so close that his warm breath brushed my cheek and his scent flooded my nose, that sharp, fresh tang of pine. Clean and crisp, just like he was, inside and out. I sighed. Suddenly, my hands itched to touch him, to trace my fingers over the sharp planes of his face, and then slide them lower, over all of his warm, delicious muscles . . .

Finn did what he always did when confronted by an angry woman - he checked out her boobs.

Actually, I love pissing people off. Important people, rich people, dangerous people. I'm an equal-opportunity pisser-offer.

It didn't take long for the anger to put the happiness in a headlock.

The truth was that I didn't know how I felt about my long-lost baby sister being in Ashland, much less the fact that she was a cop. A good one, at that. Somebody who actually tried to help people, who wanted to make a difference in a city as dirty and corrupt as Ashland - while I'd spent my entire adult life killing people for money. The idea that we shared the same DNA boggled the mind. Guess there was something to that nurture stuff after all.

Are you coming along peaceful-like, or am I going to have to hog-tie you and put you in the car?

Better be careful talking about how good my cooking is. Roslyn might get jealous."
The vampire madam let out a soft laugh. "Oh, I'll freely admit that your cooking is much better than mine, Gin. But I have certain skills you don't, especially in the bedroom. I think that Xavier far prefers those, even over a plate of the Pork Pit's best barbecue."
Roslyn gave Xavier a sly look, and the giant's grin widened.
"Well played, Roslyn," I murmured. "Well played.

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.

Not your weapons," Agrona sneered. "Your artifacts. Sigyn's bow. The Horn of Roland. The Swords of Ruslan. And, of course, Vic."
"Well, naturally," the sword crowed, his voice swelling with pride. "I do put the art in artefact."
I looked down on him. "Really?" I whispered. "You're really going to talk about how awesome you are at a time like this?"
"Certainly," Vic said. "Why wouldn't I?

The detective noticed Owen glaring at him and did a double take as well, as surprised by his appearance as Owen had been by his. The two men stared at each other for several seconds before Donovan squared his shoulders and headed in our direction. "Incoming," Finn muttered, letting out a low whistle and then a crashing sound under his breath, like a bomb was about to drop down and explode on our heads.

Handcuffs. Kinky. But I prefer to have a bit more freedom during sex. Don't you?

Damn. Sometimes I really could be a cold-hearted, insensitive bitch.

I could practically hear the cosmic chuckles ringing my ears. Ha, ha, fucking ha.

Maybe there was something to be said for creepy statues after all.

Art should look like art, trees and flowers and people, not weird shapes and splotches of color all smeared together.

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.

Where the hell are you!?" Finn screamed in my ear. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"
I winced at his voice blaring out at me. "I'm fine. I'm back at the train yard. LaFleur jumped me behind the Pork Pit and decided to take me for a little drive tonight."
"Well, I hope that you had the good sense to kill her for interrupting your evening," Finn sniffed. "And for making us worry.

The old man stared at me with his bright green eyes. You're Gin Blanco, Genevieve Snow, and the Spider all rolled into one. You can do whatever you want to, sweetheart.

I did not glow with the thrill of battle. Cringe, yes. Glow, no.

Memories never did anyone any good, and weepy sentiment was for fools too weak to suck it up and do what needed to be done.

And that's when I snapped up my left hand and smashed him in the face with the hammer I'd grabbed.

You have a good thing going with Callie," I said in a soft voice. "She really does love you, Donovan. You should try to make it work with her, but if you can't love her wholeheartedly like she loves you, like she deserves to be loved, like everyone deserves to be loved, then you need to let her go. That's what good guys do, Donovan. They think of people other than themselves and what they want. So you need to man up and walk the walk that you always spout to others.

The guy smiled at me, and I glanced at him again just in time to look directly into his eyes.
My mistake.
Sight was a common Talent, but my magic went beyond seeing the world with crystal clarity or being able to navigate through the dark like it was daylight.
Because I could also see into people.
All I had to do was stare into someone's eyes, and I knew exactly what they were feeling at that moment, whether it was love, hate, anger, or something else. Not only that, but I could actually feel the emotion in my own heart, just like the person who was experiencing it. Soulsight, it was called. A major Talent and one that I could have done without. Most people didn't have a lot of nice thoughts, feelings, or emotions, not even toward their own so-called friends and family.
But this guy . . . he radiated cold sorrow, as though he was carrying around a heavy burden that he could never, ever be free from. Still, there was a rock-hard strength mixed in with his sorrow, along with a flicker of something else buried deep, deep down . . . a hot spark that I couldn't quite identify.
I knew in an instant that he was the sort of guy who was exceedingly loyal to his friends. Who felt responsible for others. Who tried to help people as much as he could even if they didn't deserve it, and he ended up being the one who got hurt instead. The sort of guy that others saw as a leader and naturally flocked to. The sort of guy who was just so disgustingly fascinating t

Don't you understand what I've done?" Caine asked. "I've gone against everything I believe in. And for what? You?

Rage filled me at her words - cold, black, unending rage. Whatever happened to me, Mab would not hurt my sister again. She would not.

What are you smiling at?' - 'Oh, nothing much. Just my hero

Her laptop. That's where the good stuff would be anyway. It always was. Even at my old school, kids had always been frantic when they'd lost their laptops, thinking about all the incriminating stuff that someone might find on them. Like e-mails about how drunk the kids had gotten with their friends the weekend their parents thought they went to band camp. Papers they'd downloaded and plagiarized for AP English. Porn.

So that's how you know Donovan. You knew his father."
Warren nodded. "Daniel Caine, a fine man. Donovan is too. But he's not the one for you.

How had I ever thought he was cute? He so needed to be locked up in an insane asylum somewhere. Too bad Batman wasn't here to come and drag his ass off to Arkham.

The band geek has liquor?

It was better to know what people were really like than put your trust in someone who just wanted to hurt you in the end.

I'm crazy about you, Spartan.

I embraced that hope for a moment, grabbed onto it with both hands, and held it close like the rare treasure it was. Then I let go of it, let it float away like a butterfly on a bright day, because the darkest part of the night was yet to come, and there was no place for it here.

I didn't know what would take my mind off the sexy Spartan, except for maybe a total lobotomy.

I was so getting tired of fighting for my life in the library.

Yeah, well this Gypsy girl happens to have a grandma that can curse you so bad that your dick will turn black and fall off, so watch your step, Spartan.

We'd been in the locker room changing after playing basketball, which I hated because I totally sucked at it. Seriously, sucked out loud at it. Like, sucked so bad that I'd managed to hit myself in the head with the ball when I was trying to shoot a free throw.

My name is Gin, and I kill people.

I smiled, but it was a cold, heartless expression. Because you're in my killing fields now, bitch.

What can I say?" I grinned. I have a magic touch when it comes to animals."
Daphne snorted. "You're touched in the head is more like it.

You're mine," "Not his. Mine. Only mine. Always mine.

Moonlight slipped in through the lace curtains, slicing everything with its sliver cracks. That's how I felt right now - cold and cracked and hollow and empty.

I didn't know if he really meant talk, make out, or something else completely, but I'd be happy with any of them.

Instead of a thigh-high miniskirt or a leather bustier, I wore my usual ensemble - dark jeans, heavy boots, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a black fleece jacket. Since it was almost Christmas, I'd donned one of my more festive T-shirts to celebrate - thick crimson cotton with a giant candy cane in the middle of my chest. The fabric was dark enough that Vinnie Volga's blood wouldn't stand out on it - much. Happy holidays.

That's why you look so tired, isn't it?" I murmured. "You used up all your magic to find me last night."
Owen shrugged as though it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing to me. Besides Finn and the Deveraux sisters, I couldn't even remember the last time someone had cared enough to come looking for me when I was in trouble. I was so used to being on my own for so long, always being the tough, strong, capable one, that I'd forgotten how nice it felt to have someone else look out for me.
To have someone else care about me.
And just like that, the fragile strings of my feelings for Owen joined together, all the tangled threads wrapping around and weaving their way through my heart. Scary and painful in some ways, but necessary in others too.

The romantic reunion and thank-you-for-saving-my-life sex would have to wait until later.

You picked that out?" Caine asked. "That pink, plastic toy?"
I turned to look at him. "I happen to have been a little girl, once upon a time, detective. I know what they like. Every little girl wants to be a princess."
A thoughtful frown overcame the angry tension on Caine's rugged face. "And what happens when they grow up?"
I thought of my mother and sisters and all the horrors that had happened the day they'd died. A bitter laugh escaped from my tight lips.
"Then they just want to be little girls again.

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.

Folks who said you were a coward if you ran away from a fight usually didn't live long themselves.

Thirty minutes later I reached my destination - the Pork Pit.

Oh, fantastic," Vic muttered. "Just bloody fantastic. The goddess has given me to a bleeding pacifist-

Donovan Caine naked, water droplets sliding down his lean body, his muscles clenching and relaxing as he washes himself. Mmm. Nice image. Despite our earlier confrontation, I still found the detective extremely sexy. He'd be even more attractive if he'd lose the righteous anger and the stick up his ass. But no man was perfect.

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.

Someone always wanted to kill the queen.

In the end, you have only yourself to depend on. It's up to you to make sure that you're strong enough to handle the hurts and disappointments that come your way -no matter what they are.

Oh, baby. You have no idea what I'd do to get through those layers and down to the good stuff.

The only things I could kill with ease were bugs and even then only the tiny ones the big ones crunched too much and made me feel all guilty and icked out.

Burn, baby, burn," she muttered in a hard, satisfied voice.
I cleared my throat. "As much as I hate to interrupt the supreme satisfaction you're taking in watching the mansion blaze to the ground, I'd really
like to get out of here before the whole house collapses on top of us.

Executive Vice President? That's a nice way of saying he's someone's corporate bitch.

Always take the most unexpected route

Luck hadn't smiled on me tonight. Capricious bitch.

Fletcher had always said that apologies were just empty words, and that actions were all that really mattered in the end.

Infamy, thy name is Gin Blanco.

What did Owen ever see in you?" "Oh, I don't know," I said, my voice as cold and calm as hers was. "Maybe the fact that I'm not a psychotic bitch who tortures people for kicks.

You bitch!" he screamed. "I'll kill you for this!" "Sure you will," I said in an easy voice. "Take a number and get in line.

Breaking into the building was easy.
Too easy for an assassin like me.

Because life can be a cruel, heartless bitch," Helene snapped. "Because we should hold on to the happiness we have and not worry about what other people think of it, or especially of us. Because caring about someone occasionally means compromising something about yourself for their benefit and not your own. That's what real love is,

It's all very Greek, isn't it?" I quipped. "Prophecies, tragedies, destinies. Just like in all those old mythology books we read over the years." Fletcher shrugged. "Hard to beat the classics.

And what do you do in times of crisis, Gin?" Grayson asked. I stared at him. "I survive.

Come on, Gypsy girl. I'm bleeding to death here, in case you haven't noticed. At least make it worth my while and kiss me before I die.

I did it," the guy finally said. "I did it! I killed the Spider! Woo-hoo!"
Okay, I thought the woo-hoo at the end was a little much, but I let the giant enjoy his moment of victory.
It was going to be the last thing he ever enjoyed.

Uh, what are you doing?"
"Nothing much. Just erasing all of Calinda's good grades and replacing them with incompletes. Eventually, the administrators will figure out what happened, but I'm making it look like a computer error. Still, I imagine she'll get some nasty lectures from her profs and parents in the meantime.

"Nothing" title="Jennifer Estep Quotes: Uh, what are you doing?"
"Nothing" width="913px" height="515px" loading="lazy"/>

Any chance of getting something sweet to go with my coffee?" [Finn] asked in a hopeful voice.
I arched an eyebrow at him. "You mean all those pieces of strawberry pie that you ate for lunch weren't enough?"
"I'm a growing boy," Finn said in a sincere tone. "I need my vitamins."
Bria snorted. "The only thing that's growing on you, Lane, is your ego."
Finn sidled up to my sister and gave her a dazzling smile. "Well, other things of mine also tend to swell up in your presence, detective.

I'll meet you there, pumpkin," Grandma said. "And I'll bring my sword with me.

It'll be okay, I promise. No matter what I see or feel. You'll still be Logan and I'll still be your Gypsy girl.

Nickamedes stared at me, his blue eyes bright. Then, he
did something I never imagined he would do in a million years. He stepped forward, reached out, and
hugged me tight with one arm.
"If I am ever lucky enough to have a daughter, I hope that she's just like you, Gwendolyn," he
whispered

Have I ever told you how scary it is that you think of heels in terms of their possible shiv potential?

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.

Her touch was as soft as a snowflake falling onto my skin.

Say that Finnegan Lane was something of a womanizer was like telling someone that it was a little steamy in the South in the summertime. Old, young, fat, thin, blonde, brunette, bald, toothless, face like a steel trap, Finn didn't care as long as it was breathing, female, and had the breasts to prove it. He wasn't even particular about how perky they were.

Blue Marsh might be hundreds of miles away from Ashland, but sociopathic assholes were the same no matter where you went.

But it was the second guy who caught my eye. Like the girl, he, too, paused by the door, seeming even more wary than she looked. The sunlight streaming in through the windows highlighted the rich honey in his dark chocolate brown hair, even as it cast his face in shadow. The tan skin of his arms resembled marble - hard, but smooth and supple at the same time.
He must have passed through the mist spewed up by the fountain outside, because his black T-shirt was wet in places and the damp patches clung to his skin. The wetness allowed me to see just how muscled his chest was. Oh, yeah, I totally ogled that part of him, right up until I spotted the silver cuff on his right wrist.
Given the angle, I couldn't tell what crest was stamped into the metal, but I glanced at the others, who also wore cuffs. I sighed. So they belonged to some Family then. Wonderful. This day just kept getting better.

I'd come to terms with what I did long ago. The bodies, the blood, the tears of those left behind. Even the fact I was probably going to burn in hell didn't bother me. Much.

For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. Then the bitch blasted me with her water magic, and I got over it.

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.

Arm in arm, we left her room, the beginnings of a real relationship shimmering in the air between us, just like the bright pink sparks fluttering up from the Valkyrie's fingertips.

Summer queens are fine and fair, with pretty ribbons and flowers in their hair. Winter queens are cold and hard, with frosted crowns made of icy shards.

For the first time, I was glad that Finn had badgered me into buying the Aston, because the car purred into high gear with no visible effort and hugged the road better than a creepy old uncle at Christmas, not wanting to let go of his pretty young relatives.

I don't judge you for what you've done, Gin. Why are you judging me for another man's mistakes?