Janet Evanovich
Janet Evanovich
Janet Evanovichis an American writer. She began her career writing short contemporary romance novels under the pen name Steffie Hall, but gained fame authoring a series of contemporary mysteries featuring Stephanie Plum, a former lingerie buyer from Trenton, New Jersey, who becomes a bounty hunter to make ends meet after losing her job. The novels in this series have been on the New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal and Amazon bestseller lists. Evanovich has had her last seventeen...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth22 April 1943
CitySouth River, NJ
CountryUnited States of America
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'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.
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.
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.
I rolled my eyes so far into the top of my head I almost fell over backward.
I was watching television and I saw how you stick your fingers in a person's eyes to slow them down." Grandma Mazur
Ranger locked eyes with me. "Please," he said. Tank and Hal were goggle-eyed. They weren't used to "please." I wasn't used to it either. But I liked it. Okay," I said. "Be careful. He's insane.
I took the stool next to him, raising an eyebrow at the coffee and cruller on the counter. "Thought you weren't into internal pollution," I said. Lately Ranger'd been on a health food thing. "Props," Ranger told me. "Didn't want to look out of place." I didn't want to burst his fantasy bubble, but the only time Ranger wouldn't look out of place would be standing in a lineup between Rambo and Batman.
My eyes rolled so far back in my head that I could see myself think
I did such a gigantic eye roll I almost fell over.
It was Lorraine in her nightie and Mo in his cap. They'd just settled their brains for a long winter's nap in front of the television. When out in the lot there arose such a clatter, they sprang from their recliners to see what was the matter. Away to the window they flew like a flash, tore open the blinds and threw up the sash. And what to their wondering eyes should appear, but Stephanie Plum and yet another of her cars burning front to rear.
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.
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.
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.