Quotes from Janet Evanovich

Ranger declined the butterscotch pudding, not wanting to disrupt the consistency of his blood sugar level. I had two puddings and coffee, choosing to keep my pancreas at peak performance. Use it or lose it is my philosophy.

That was close,he said, helping himself to coffee. Yeah, you almost opened the door to Morelli. I wasn't talking about Morelli. I was talking about us. That too, I said. Ranger sliced a bagel and looked for the toaster. It's broken,I told him. He truned the boiler on and slid the bagel into the oven. That's surprisingly domestic for a man of mystery, I said to him. He looked at me over the rim of his coffee mug. I like things hot.

Joe I said. It's Stephanie. Does this involve death? Not yet. Does this involve sex? Not yet. I can't imagine why else you'd be calling me.

You owe me! -Stephanie Why do I owe you? -Joe I caught your no good cousin. -Stephanie Yeah and in the process you burned down a funeral home, and damaged thousands of dollars of government property. -Joe Well if you are going to be picky about it.... -Stephanie

Suppose I lay down on the pavement and you run over me a few times with my own car...just for old times.

THERE ARE SOME MEN who enter a woman's life and screw it up forever. Joseph Morelli did this to me—not forever, but periodically.

If God had wanted me to lose weight he would have made sure there was creamed spinach for dessert.

There were two doors that opened off the hallway. The doors were labeled PUSSY and MOTHERFUCKERS. I'm taking the Motherfuckers door, I said to Ranger. No way. That's my door. Well, I'm sure as hell not taking the Pussy door.

Are you telling me you think Ranger's a superhero?' Think about it. We don't know where he lives. We don't know anything about him.' Superheroes are make-believe.' Oh yeah?' Lula said. 'What about God?

I want to see your tailpipe fading off into the sunset. Good luck, I thought. My tailpipe was somewhere on Route 1, along with my muffler.

I checked my pocketbook to make sure I had the essentials... beeper, tissues, hair spray, flashlight, cuffs, lipstick, gun with bullets, recharged cell phone, recharged stun gun, hairbrush, gum, pepper spray, nail file. Was I a kick-ass bounty hunter, or what?(Three to get deadly)Janet evanovich

Suppose something goes wrong? Suppose you need a big full-figure woman like me to help straighten things out? Lula

I hung my head. Ranger was next on the list. "Yo," Ranger said when he answered. "Small problem." "No kidding. Your car just went off the screen." "It sort of burned up." Silence. "And you know that keypad you gave me? It was in the car." "Babe.

Oh good. I love being bait for a homicidal mutilator. Stephanie Plum

You deserved to get run over. And besides, I barely tapped you. The only reason you broke your leg was because you panicked and tripped over your own feet. You're lucky I didn't sue you. You're lucky I didn't put the car into reverse and back over you three or four times.

Lula's borderline too much of a good thing in lots of ways. It isn't exactly that Lula is fat; it's more that she's too short for her weight and her clothes are too small for the volume of flesh she carries.

Did you take Joyce's engine?' 'My instructions were to disable the car, but one of the men bet Hal a burger he couldn't get the engine out. So Hal removed the engine.

You can run, but you can't hide, Cupcake. Morelli said. I'll find you. You are such a cop. Tell me about it.

I felt my cell phone buzz, and I looked at the screen. Ranger. "Your GPS just went blank," Ranger said when I answered. "The car exploded." There was a beat of silence. "Rafael won the pool," Ranger said. "Are you okay?" "Yes." "I'll send someone.

Are we fighting? I asked Morelli. No. Were discussing. Are you sure? Am I yelling? Morelli asked. Is my face purple? Are the cords on my neck standing out? Am I waving my arms around? No. The were not fighting.

You're such a cupcake.

The way I see it, living in New Jersey is a challenge, what with the toxic waste and the eighteen wheelers and the armed schizophrenics. Connie Rosolli

Ranger cradled my face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my eyes. The ceremony is over. Can you make it back to the car? I nodded. I'm okay now. Am I red and blotchy from crying? Yes, Ranger said, brushing a kiss across my forehead. I love you anyway. There's all kinds of love, I said. Ranger took me by the hand and led me back to the SUV. This is the kind that doesn't call for a ring. But a condom might come in handy. That's not love, I told him. That's lust.

I don't believe this, Morelli yelled. I don't fucking believe this. What do you do, sit in bed at night and think about ways to fuck up my life?