“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.” — Jennifer Estep Copy Share Image
“You mean before Mab Monroe staked him out and barbecued him like a pork chop for all his friends to see,” I replied. “And you too. Pity, dear old dad getting roasted like that right in front of you.” — Jennifer Estep Copy Share Image
