Quotes About Barrons

If he were any other man, I might have suspected him of substance abuse, of being coked up or something. But Barrons was too much a purist for that; his drugs were money, power, and control

Okay, Barrons, it's time." "I am not helping you shave your legs." he said instantly. "Oh please. As if I'd let you.

I'm asking the questions tonight." One day I was going to write a book: How to Dictate to a Dictator and Evade an Evader, subtitled How to Handle Jericho Barrons.

I get off on a man with strong moral fiber. The closest Barrons ever gets to fiber is walking down the cereal aisle at the grocery store.

I heard there are no male sidhe-seers." Where did you hear that?" Around." And which one of those are you in doubt about Ms. Lane?" Which one of what?" Whether I see the Fae, or whether I'm a man. I believe I've laid your mind to rest on the former; shall I relieve it on the latter?" He reached for his belt. Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You're a leftie, Barrons." Touche, Ms. Lane," he murmered.

Barrons' lips twitched. I'd almost made him smile. Barrons smiles about as often as the sun comes out in Dublin, and it has the same effect on me; makes me feel warm and stupid.

Ryodan says softly, "Holy strawberries, Dani, we're in a jam." I look at him like he's sprouted two heads. Holy strawberries? In a jam? Even Barrons looks stumped. He continues, "But don't worry. Holy priceless collection of Etruscan snoods—you really butchered that one, by the way—I've got it in the bag. How about this one: holy borrowing bibliophile, let's book.

The paranoid one's wards are still active. They keep me several feet from the building." "But not his car," I said, a smile tugging at my lips. Barrons would go nuts if he knew that V'lane had touched his Viper. And stretched out on it nude? He'd have an aneurysm.

I don't believe Barrons is out to destroy mankind. I don't think he particularly cares much for mankind, but I don't think he has any deep-seated desire to see us all wiped out.

Nuns? They'd take one look at Barrons and decide the devil himself had come knockng. He not only looked dangerous, he emanated something that made even me feel like crossing myself sometimes, and I'm not religious.

All those 'bloodys' was a veritable cornucopia of emotion for Barrons.

We were watching Barrons. Why were you watching Barrons? Barrons needs watching.

My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said "our world." He always said "your world." But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he'd been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like me, been beguiled by her tawdry grace, fallen for her charm and colorful dualities? I looked around "my" bookstore. That was what I called it. Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?

If he were any other man, I might have suspected him of substance abuse, of being coked up or something. But Barrons was too much a purist for that; his drugs were money, power, and control

Thankfully I'm not most women. I don't get off on danger. I get off on a man with strong moral fiber. The closest Barrons ever gets to fiber is walking down the cereal aisle at the grocery store.

I was stunned to see that he looked stunned himself, which was an exorbitant display of emotion for Barrons.

Have you been in a fight? No, let me guess; you saved a wounded dog, again?" I said dryly. That was the excuse he'd used last time. "I had a nosebleed." "Nosebleed, my petunia." "Petunia?" "Ass, Barrons. As in you are one.

How do you kill a vampire?"-Mac "Hope hes not"-Barrons

Your pretty college boy isn't so pretty anymore." "He isn't my pretty college boy." Our gazes locked. "But I still think he's pretty pretty," I said, just to antagonize him. See you in bed with him like I saw in the Silvers, I'll kill him. I blinked. I did not just see that in Barrons' eyes.

You're the wildcard Mac. I've thought that since the beginning. This thing thinks you're epic. So do I. -Barrons

Did you fuck him?" "Ah!" I yelled. "Of course not!" I rubbed my face with both hands and kept it buried there a minute. "Wouldn't I be an addict if I did?" I raised my face. Barrons studied me, dark eyes cold. "Not if he protected you." "They can do that? Really?" "Try not to sound so intrigued, Ms. Lane.

Who among the Fae likes you enough to do that favor?" I knew the answer to that. No one. "The one I didn't kill when I demanded it. After I killed the other two." I smiled faintly. One word: badass. I want to be Jericho Barrons when I grow up.

CJ It took me a moment to figure out the initials.Constant Jackass. I smiled. "Apology accepted, Barrons, if it's the Ferrari." It was.

I had a nosebleed." "Nosebleed, my petunia." "Petunia?" "Ass, Barrons. As in you are one.