Sloane Tavish Quotes

“Celine snorted. “Never have I ever had a thing for blondes,” she said. And then, her eyes on Sloane, she shot our statistician a dazzling smile and lowered her own finger —meaning that she did have a thing for blondes.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, Bad Blood

“Sloane?” Lia turned to her next. Sloane stared at Lia, a blush spreading over her cheeks.

“I’m not undressing until we establish a conversion rate,” she informed us tartly, gesturing toward her mountain of chips.

“Sloane,” Michael said.

“Yes?”

“How would you feel about a second cup of coffee?”

Forty-five seconds later, Sloane was in the kitchen, and neither of the boys was wearing a shirt.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, Killer Instinct

“She hacked the FBI." Dean paused. "Of course she did. She's Sloane.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, All In

“Did you know that the average life span of the hairy-nosed wombat is ten to twelve years?” Apparently, Sloane had decided that when I said I was fine, I was lying. The more coffee my roommate ingested, the lower her threshold for keeping random statistics to herself—especially if she thought someone needed a distraction.

“The longest-living wombat in captivity lived thirty-four years,” Sloane continued, propping herself up on her elbows to look at me. Given that we shared a bedroom, I probably should have objected more strenuously to cup of coffee number two. Tonight, though, I found Sloane’s high-speed statistical babbling to be strangely soothing. Profiling Sterling hadn’t kept me from thinking about Locke.

Maybe this would.

“Tell me more about wombats,” I said.

With the look of a small child awaking to a miracle on Christmas morning, Sloane beamed at me and complied.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, Killer Instinct

“This encryption is pathetic,” Sloane said. “It’s like they want me to hack their files.”

She was sitting cross-legged on the end of her bed, her laptop balanced on her knees. Her fingers flew across the keys as she worked on breaking through the protection on the pilfered USB drive. A stray piece of blond hair drifted into her face, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Done!”

Sloane turned the laptop around so the two of us could see it. “Seven files,” she said.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, The Naturals

“Cassie. A word.”

I glanced at Michael, wondering what—if anything—Briggs knew about what Michael, Sloane, and I had been up to.

“Ambidextrous,” Sloane said suddenly.

“This should be good,” Lia murmured.

Sloane cleared her throat. “Agent Briggs asked for a word. Ambidextrous is a good one. Less than point-five percent of the words in the English language contain all five vowels.”

I was grateful for the distraction, but unfortunately, Briggs didn’t bite. “Cassie?”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, The Naturals

“Sloane looked on from behind a veritable mountain of Oreos. “I’ll sit this one out,” she said. “Also, I’m entertaining the idea of eating some of my poker chips. Can we agree that an Oreo missing its frosting is worth two-thirds of its normal amount?”

“Just eat the cookies,” I told her, eyeing her pile mournfully—and only partially joking. “You have plenty to spare.”

Before joining the Naturals program, Sloane had been Las Vegas born and raised. She’d been counting cards since she’d learned to count. She sat out about a third of the hands, but won every single hand she played.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, Killer Instinct

“To my surprise, Sloane pushed past Michael, wrapped dainty little hands around the barbell, and rocked back on her heels, angling it into place.

Dean wiped his hands on his jeans, grabbed a nearby towel, and sat up. “Thanks,” he told Sloane.

“Torque,” she said, instead of you’re welcome. “The role of the lever was played by my arms.”
― Jennifer Lynn Barnes, The Naturals