Janet Evanovich Quotations

I actually really suck at naming books, so lots of years ago, readers were sending in their ideas for titles, and what we realized is that they were smarter than us. So we thought, Hey, go for it. So now we have a contest every year.

I wasn't always a writer. When I went to college and majored in fine arts, I was a painter. Then I was a stay-at-home mom.

As Stephanie and Lula were going after the bad guys, Lula was making preparations from the trunk of her Firebird. Stephanie looked inside and stopped breathing for a beat. "That's a rocket launcher!" "Yep," Lula said. "It's a big boy. I got it at a yard sale in the projects.

Bullets are creepy." Stephenie

When you get ready to write your novel, outline it first. There's nothing worse than getting halfway through and realizing you've painted yourself in a plot corner.

If I could just get Broom to cooperate, we could fly, Glo said. Then we wouldn't have to worry about traffic. Harry Potter didn't have to worry about traffic. You relize Harry Potter isn't real, right? Of course, but he could be. I mean, maybe not Harry Potter, but someone like him. Who's to say?

Does your mother know that you're carrying a gun? I'm going to tell her. I'm going to call and tell her right now." Joe Morelli's mom

I don't need shoes. I need a night scope. You think they sell night scopes someplace here?

I'm so busy writing and editing two books a year that I don't have time for painting anymore.

Opening my door to Dillon Ruddick, my bulding super. I handed him a cup of coffee. "Sorry about the blood." "What was it this time?" No one reported gunfire." "I hit a guy in the face with a hair dryer." "Whoa." Dillon said. "It wasn't my fault," I told him. "Maybe we should lay down some linoleum here. It would make things easier for clean up.

A uniform cordoned off the area with crime scene tape. The M.E. pulled in and parked. There were two EMT trucks idling at the edge of the lot. I’d stayed close to the back door, and one of the Rangeman guys had taken a position two feet from me, standing at parade rest. No doubt in my mind he’d take a bullet for me rather than face Ranger over a dead Stephanie.

Mooner was walking around laying his hands on the cars, divining karma. "this is it", he said, standing by a small khaki-colored jeep."this car has protective qualities" You mean like a guardian angel?" I mean, like, it has seatbelts

Are you telling me your brain and your lady parts decided on a love fest bake-off winner?

I thought you wanted to date other women?" "I didn't want to date other women. We decided in the heat of the moment that were no longer exclusively attached." "And I could date other men." Morelli was starting to look annoyed. "Have you been dating other men?" "Maybe." "As long as it isn't Ranger," Morelli said. "I don't think Ranger dates.

Ranger removed my goggles "Would you like to come home with me?" I stepped away from him. "Thank you for the offer, but no. I'm done with men." Ranger smiled. "Forever?" "Until I figure some things out." "And if you don't figure them out?" "If I can't figure them out on my own, I'll ask you to help me." "Babe, that's like the blind leading the blind.

Maybe your pregnant. Oops, hold on, you're not pregnant, on account of you're not gettin any.

Romance novels are birthday cake and life is often peanut butter and jelly. I think everyone should have lots of delicious romance novels lying around for those times when the peanut butter of life gets stuck to the roof of your mouth.

I received rejection letters for ten years (one on a napkin, written in crayon.) I had all my rejection notices stored in a box. When the box was finally full I took it to the curb and set it on fire. The next day I went out and got a temp job.

-You're gloating, Max. It's not flattering. Somebody needs to teach you a little humility.- -A good woman could do that.- -She'd have to be armed and dangerous.-

My mother drove back to the intersection. "Who are you dating?" "Don't ask," I said. I wasn't dating anyone. I was fornicating with Batman.

I attributed the incidence to temporary insanity, and in my own defense, I'd like to say I haven't run over anyone since.

I really wouldn't classify the books as mysteries. I prefer to say that they're adventures.

If anything happened to you, I'd be so destroyed they'd have to strap me to a bed and feed me through a tube. After five or six years, I might be capable of taking care of Rex. In the interim, you should assign a guardian.

Stephanie Plum,"I almost never shoot anyone.

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.

Since I write in first person and have no idea what goes on in men's heads.

I ran three miles, staggered into the lobby, and took the elevator back to my apartment. No point to overdoing this exercise junk. --Stephanie Plum

Here's a basic difference between Morelli and me. My first thought was always of cake. His first thought was always of sex. Don't get me wrong. I like sex . . . a lot. But it's never going to replace cake.

Morelli beeped his truck unlocked. “If you’re looking for your rent-a-cop, I told Ranger you’d be with me this morning.” “Did he make you take a blood oath that you’d protect me?” “He asked me if I had adequate health insurance.

I write to entertain. When people read one of my books I want them to finish with a smile on their faces, feeling a little bit better about themselves and the people in their lives.

Personally, I'm a lazy kind of guy, and leaving the door open on the mystical saves me work. I don't have to stress my brain trying to explain the unexplainable. It's magic. End of discussion.

God's a busy guy. He don't have time to micromanage. What are the chances he heard that? It's early in the morning. He's probably having breakfast with Mrs. God.

Only men you can count on these days are Ben and Jerry.

I think money isn't any good sitting around, so I spend some time in the shoe department at Saks.

Calories don’t count if they’re connected to a celebration. Everyone knows this.

When I was six years old I sprinkled sugar on my head, convinced myself it was pixie dust, wished myself invisible, and walked into the boys' bathroom at school.

I mostly eat peanut butter sandwiches. Peanut butter and banana, peanut butter and jelly, peanut butter and potato chips, peanut butter and olives, and peanut butter and marshmallow goo. So sue me, I like peanut butter.

I failed math twice, never fully grasping probability theory. I mean, first off, who cares if you pick a black ball or a white ball out of the bag? And second, if you’re bent over about the color, don’t leave it to chance. Look in the damn bag and pick the color you want.

That might work," I said. "I'm good at faking it." This led to a couple moments of uncomfortable silence from both of us. "You didn't mean... ?" Morelli asked. "No. Of course not." "Never?" "Maybe once." His eyes narrowed. "Once?" "It's all that comes to mind. It was the time we were late for your Uncle Spud's birthday party." "I remember that. That was great. You're telling me you faked it?" "We were late! I couldn't concentrate. It seemed like the best way to go.

I'd kiss you, but you smell like a gym bag.

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.

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

Look at you! You look like Rangeman Barbie. You got a gun and everything. -Lula

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.

Were really screwed up, aren't we?" "In a very large way.

There’s always tomorrow.” “Exactly,” she said, finishing off her first doughnut, selecting a second. Maybe she wouldn’t starve to death, she decided. Maybe she’d eat herself into obesity and explode. Death by doughnut.

Men!" "At least we don't fake it." "Listen, it was your uncle. And we were late, remember? So I made the sacrifice and got us there in time for dessert. You should be thanking me." Morelli's mouth was open slightly and his face was registering a mixture of astonished disbelief and wounded, pissed-off male pride. Okay, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice at the time, and I knew he shouldn't be thanking me, but give me a break here... this wasn't famine in Ethiopia

One of the men gave Butch a bunch of volts with a stun gun. The Rangeman didn’t move fast enough, and Butch grabbed the gun and threw it across the room. “Hunh,” Rangeman guy said. “Yeah,” I said. “Been there, done that.” “Are you sure he’s human?” “Maybe you could hook a chain to the FlexiCuffs on his ankles and drag him behind your car,” I said. “We tried that once, and Ranger didn’t like it,” the guy said. “You do something twice that Ranger doesn’t like, and you’re out of a job and damaged.

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.

From the look on your face, I'd say you know him." I nodded. "Sold him a cannoli when I was in high school." Connie grunted. "Honey, half of all the women in New Jersey have sold him their cannoli

He reached out, opened the glove compartment, and took out a gun. It was a Smith & Wesson .38 five-shot special. It looked a lot like my gun. "I stopped by your apartment this morning and picked this up for you," Ranger said. "I found it in the cookie jar." "Tough guys always keep their gun in the cookie jar." "Name one." "Rockford." Ranger grinned. "I stand corrected.

Morelli grabbed the front of my shirt, pulled me to him, and kissed me. It was a great kiss, but I didn't know what the heck it meant. It seemed to me a breaking up kiss would have had less tongue.

I'd slept with Ranger! Not sexually, of course. But I'd been in his bed. And then there was the evil shower gel. "It was all because of the shower gel," I said. Morelli's eyes narrowed. "Shower gel?" I made a major effort not to sigh. "Long story. You probably don't want to hear it.

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?

It was a weird sensation. Like getting caught eavesdropping, or lying, or sitting on the toilet and having the bathroom walls suddenly drop away.

You're such a cupcake.

Maybe it's just not the right time for us to be married. I don't want to be a bounty hunter for the rest of my life, but I certainly don't want to be a housewife right now. And I really don't want to be married to someone who gives me ultimatums. And maybe Joe needs to examine what he wants from a wife. He was raised in a traditional Italian household with a stay-at-home mother and domineering father. If he wants a wife who will fit into that mold, I'm not for him. I might be a stay-at-home mother someday, but I'll always be trying to fly off the garage roof. That's just who I am.

He's going to jail. He can't see. He can't hear. He can't take a leak that lasts under fifteen minutes. But he has an erection and all the other problems are small change. Next time around I'm coming back as a man. Priorities are clearly defined. Life is simple.

Okay, take a deep breath, I told myself. Don't go all hormonal. Get the facts straight. Have a mental doughnut.

Oh, for God's sake," I said. "Just give me the stupid thing." I took the panic button and stuck it into my Super Sexy Miracle Bra. "GPS," Ranger said to Morelli. "Probably I can find her breast without it," Morelli said. "But it's good to know there's a navigational system on board if I need it.

Yeah, I like that idea. Maybe he'll shoot at us again. I was hoping someone would shoot at me today. That was the first thing I said when I got up: Boy, I hope I get shot at today.

Valerie was crying, too. She was laughing and sniffling back sobs. “I’m going to marry my snuggy wuggums,” she said. Morelli paused, his fork halfway to the roast chicken platter. He slid his eyes to me and leaned close. “If you ever call me snuggy wuggums in public I’ll lock you in the cellar and chain you to the furnace.

Omygod, I haven’t got years. I’ll have to hide in the Bat Cave.” “Once you go to the Bat Cave it’s forever, babe.” Eeek.

Nice dress you're almost wearing. You ever think about changing professions?" -Ranger

And something chocolate, of course. A meal was not a meal without some sort of chocolate for desert.

He doesn’t look very smart,” Diesel said. “He’s not even giving me the finger.” “Can monkey’s do that?” Hal asked. Carl gave him the finger. “Cool!” Hal said.

Ranger’s gonna hate this,” Tank said. “Better to get shot than to have to explain the gate. Bad enough I got a horse that smells like his shower gel.

Am I to assume you would rather not have us as clients?"
 "Let me think about that for a nanosecond," Dickie said. "Yes! Last time you were in my office you tried to kill me."
 "That's an exaggeration. Maim you, yes. Kill you, probably not."

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.

I was going to go to church, but I decided to get doughnuts instead.

Thats what her cars do," Lula said. "They explode. But I gotta tell you this was the best. This here's the first time she exploded a garbage truck. One time her truck got hit with an antitank missile. That wasn't bad either, but it couldn't compare to this.

Why do you give me cars?" "It's fun," Ranger said."And it keeps you safe. Do you want to know why keeping you safe is important to me?" "You love me?" "Yes." A sigh inadvertently escaped. "We're really screwed up, aren't we?" "In a very large way," Ranger said.

What are you doing back at the bakery?” I asked [Diesel]. “Did you know Wulf was here?” “No. I knew food was here.

At the other end of the room, Grandma had the lid up on Larry Lipinski. She was standing one foot on a folding chair, one foot on the edge of the casket, and she was taking pictures with a disposable camera.

I don't feel so good." Lula said. And she farted. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and did a full minute-long fart. "Excuse me." she said. I was horrified and impressed all at the same time. It was a record breaking fart. On my best day, I couldn't come near to farting like that.

She doesn’t know,” Cate said. “Kellen is a secret. I didn’t think my mother would approve.” “Why wouldn’t your mother approve?” Pugg asked. “It’s my job,” Kellen said. “I kill people. It pays well, but it’s not universally socially acceptable.

I am not menopausal. I just wanted half an hour alone. Is that too much to ask? A crappy half hour!

I stuck my tongue out at him because I was feeling exceptionall mature.

That's one of the things I like about Mary Lou. She's willing to believe the worst about anyone.

Amen" Lula said and she made the sign of the cross. "I thought you were Baptist." "Yeah, but we don't got any hand signals for an occasion like this.

When something needs to be ironed I put it in the ironing basket. If a year goes by and the item is still in the basket I throw the item away. This is a good system since eventually I end up only with clothes that don’t need ironing.

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.

Life is about survival of the fittest, and Jersey is producing the master race.

Last time you called me late at night you were naked and chained to your shower curtain rod. I hope this isn't going to be disappointing.

I’ll be real discreet,” Tank said. As discreet as a six-foot-six, no-neck guy weighing three hundred and fifty pounds, all dressed in black SWAT clothes, with a Glock holstered at his side could be.

I rolled my eyes so far into the top of my head I almost fell over backward.

I'm sorry about your Porsche." "I can replace the Porsche. I can't replace you. You need to be more careful." I was just sitting in your car!" Babe, you're a magnet for disaster.

Your life isn't out of control. It's expanded.

Ranger Smiled. 'You want me to be Superman? Spend the night with me.

The note wasn't signed, but I could tell it was from Morelli by the way my nipples got hard.

I got out of the tub and had to squelch a scream when I saw my reflection in the vanity mirror. My hair looked like it had taken 2000 volts and been spray starched

I got out of the elevator and confronted Mr. Wexler. “Killing is wrong.” “We kill chickens,” Mr. Wexler said. “We kill cows. We kill trees. So big deal, we kill some drug dealers.” It was hard to argue with that kind of logic because I like cows and chickens and trees much better than drug dealers.

Stop the planet. I want to get off.

I wasn’t a fabulous cook. I didn’t have a boyfriend, much less a husband. And I wasn’t a big financial success. I could live with all those failings as long as I knew that once in a while I looked really hot.

Almost everybody I know has died,” Grandma said. “Bunch of wimps.

Tastykakes are just another of the many advantages of living in Jersey. They’re made in Philly and shipped to Trenton in all their fresh squishiness. I read once that 439,000 Butterscotch Krimpets are baked every day. And not a heck of a lot of them find their way to New Hampshire. All that snow and scenery and what good does it do you without Tastykakes?

My Spanish is limited to burrito and taco,

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

Stephanie, I'm begging you. Eat some doughnuts. I can't keep going like this." - Morelli

I like being able to provide consistent and frequent literary choices for my fans.