Quote

I looked to the window. Patch was gone, but a single black feather was pressed to the outer pane, held in place by last night's rain. Or Angel Magic

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Place
Looked
Pressed
Magic
Patches
Single
Feathers
Gone
Outer
Lasts
Held
Last
Angel
Pane
Black
Rain
Feather
Night
Window
Patch

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Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.
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Anthony raised his red plastic cup to me and shouted something, but it was too hard to hear over the music. “What?” I called back. “You look great!” A goofy smile was plastered on his face. “Oh boy,” Vee said. “Not just a pimp, but a smashed pimp.” “So maybe he’s a little drunk.” “Drunk and hoping to corner you alone in a bedroom upstairs.” Ugh.
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Nice costume, he said. Ditto. I can tell you put a lot of thought into yours. Amusement curled his mouth. If you don't like it, I can take it off.
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...I need a boyfriend. And to get a boyfriend, you have to look good. Doesn’t hurt to smell good too.
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Anything was better than nothing. Half-full was better than empty. Ignorance was the lowest form of humiliation and suffering.
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I had fun last night, I told Patch, flicking off my chin strap and handing over my helmet. I'm officially on love with your sheets. That the only thing you're in love with? Nope. Your mattress, too. Some smile crept into Patch's eyes. My bed's an open invitation.
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I swear to you, Nora Grey, on this day, from now and forever, to give myself to you. I am yours. My love, my body, my soul—I place in your possession and protection.” He held out the ring, a single offering, a binding promise. ~ Patch + Nora
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Hate to disappoint, but no feathers. I came to Earth stripped naked.
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I took three steps back he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!
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Angel... I don't think you understand the lengths I would go to if it means keeping you here with me.' -Patch (PG 262)
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You're mine, Angel. And I'm yours. Nothing can change that.
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I need to brush my teeth. And I need a shower. He grinned, hopping off the bike. Now that is an invitation.
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Does Patch have a restraining order against him?' he read. 'Is Patch a felon?' 'Give-me-that!' I hissed furiously. Patch gave a soft laugh, and I knew he'd seen the next question. 'Does Patch have a girlfriend?
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Biggest dream?” I was proud of this one because I knew it would stump him. It required forethought. “Kiss you.” “That’s not funny,” I said, holding his eyes, grateful I didn’t stutter. “No, but it made you blush.
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My life sucks when I’m only half-aware of it. If I quit drinking and saw what it’s really like, I’d probably jump off a bridge.
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You keep life on a short leash.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You’re scared of what you can’t control.
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Science is an investigation, Coach said, sanding his hands together. Science requires us to transform into spies. Put that way, science almost sounded fun. But I'd been in Coach's class long enough not to get my hopes up.
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Nora: This is crazy. Patch: I'm crazy. About you.
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I’m not going to kill you, Nora. I don’t kill people who are important to me. And you top the list.
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He was abominable...and the most alluring, tortured soul I'd ever met.
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