20 Quotes by Ashley Nikole

He pressed a finger to her carotid and swore. She was dead. His target. Dead. Not on his watch was she gonna stay that way. “You’re not dying today, lady.” He grabbed the switchblade knife from his jean’s back pocket, flicked it open, then cut down the front of her sweater. He pocketed the knife and clasped his hands together, then laced his fingers and pressed the heel of his hand to the middle of her sternum and began compressions.

Ebony!" The shout was desperate as the look on the man's face. She looked down, only to realize she hung off a ledge, no landing in sight. Fire glowed from every tree and blade of grass around her. "Don't you let go," he pleaded. "I can't reach--" she strained harder, but the ledge collapsed beneath her grasp. "Don't let--" "No!" Her fingers slipped, then she plunged into the darkness.

Pulling the threadbare sheet over her shoulder, she rolled onto her side away from him. Cries, deep and gun-wrenching built in her chest, threatening to steal away what air was left in her lungs. She didn't care that Bucket Man sat a foot away, witnessing her lose what grip she had left on reality. She had nothing. Her memory was gone and she was already half dead. Her only friend was agony, and she was the daughter of a monster.

Even the bruising couldn't disguise the strength of his features. His jaw, cheekbones, nose and--even his forehead--nothing was lacking in confidence about him--in the looks or personality department. What she wouldn't give to have his confidence. And absolution of guilt.

His chest rose and fell, his face oddly peaceful in sleep. It was strange, having the bane of her existence, keeping watch over her while she slept--and not in a jail cell.

Ethan grabbed Alijah's shirtfront and hauled him out back of the house. "I don't need a lecture from--" "Oh yes, you do." Ethan gave him a helpful push down the remaining stairs, not a bit remorseful for making him lose his footing. But the sap recovered in time. Blast it all--Ethan truly wanted to rearrange the man's face.

Her life was a mess. One big, fat, disgusting mess. An alluvion if there ever was one. It would have been fitting for the world to have begun shouting "gardyloo", the day she was born.

How was your sleep?" Ellie asked as she poked tiny holes into the dirt with her index finger. When Jonathan didn't reply, Ellie glanced up and saw his haunted expression. That he was lost in a pocket of evil memories, was evident.

She tried lowering him slowly, but he ended up falling and taking her down with him. Ellie couldn't tell which of them groaned the loudest. "Seriously! Could you eat a little less?" she groused, pushing back onto her haunches. Ethan smirked and shook his head. Motioned to his well defined torso. "Muscle, not fat.