Jennifer Estep Quotes

I'd be damned if I let him see the tears in my eyes.

Hope. An emotion that always kept suckering me in, time after time, despite my supposed retirement from the assassin business. Hope. The one thing that always seemed to get me into more trouble than just killing people for money ever had. Ah, hope. Sometimes, I really hated it.

Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay the ladies just as well as I can reapers.

This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me.

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

Did she just call me a bleeding toothpick? Kill her! Kill her now!

Don’t make it a challenge. You know how much I like those.

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.

Always take the most unexpected route

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.

You've got a thing for Donovan Caine. You have ever since you killed Ingles, his partner, and he went all dogged and determined on you.

Still, I'd do anything for him. Even smear his clotting blood inside the vehicle of his choosing.

I might be an assassin, but never let it be said I wasn't as gracious a hostess as the next gal.

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

Quite a crowd tonight, Gin. Usually, it's just you and Finn." I shrugged. "What can I say? I seem to attract minions wherever I go these days. Kind of like the Pied Piper." Behind me, Finn huffed out his displeasure. "Minion? I am most certainly not a mere minion. Head minion, perhaps. At the very least.

Let him look," he whispered and kissed me again.

Killing people was far easier than making polite chitchat.

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.

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.

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.

All I'm saying is that I understand if the novelty's worn off and you want to get off the carousel ride now before it kills you.

Etiquette? What kind of etiquette was there in someone trying to murder me?

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.

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

The wolf stared down at me, paws still on my chest, its shaggy tail thumping from side tot side and spraying us both with snow. It seemed like...it expected me to do something. Maybe my mind was completley gone, because there was only one thing I could thing of right now that might satisfy it. I reached up en awkwardly patted the side of its head, since that was al i could reach. "Nice puppy," I whispered, and passed out.

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!

Easy was for people too weak to suck it up and do what needed to be done. And I wasn’t weak. Not anymore.

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

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

That was my favorite dagger." She had a favorite dagger? Seriously? And she thought that I was a freak.

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.

One by one, the others all nodded their heads again, as if we were talking about having a spring picnic instead of going up against the deadliest woman in Ashland and all of her men.

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.

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.

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

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

I know that maniacal twinkle in your eye. You're up to something Gwen," he said.

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

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.

I'm a figment of your imagination. You're only imagining that I'm sitting here eating with you. Because I'm just so freaking awesome that people daydream about being seen with me.

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

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.

He realized something was going on between Logan and me. I wish he'd clue me in on exactly what it was, because I had no idea.

Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.

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.

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

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.

I'm crazy about you, Spartan.