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We touched base at several strategic locations down our bodies, and it took all my willpower to break away.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
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Novelist
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Utah
Break
Willpower
Away
Strategic
Body
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Base
Touched
Several
Bodies
Took
Locations
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Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn't.
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Nora: What are you planning? Patch: I wouldn't call this planning. I'd call this throwing a Hail Mary with seconds left on the clock.
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Walk out,” he repeated. “We need to talk.” “About how you need to sacrifice me to get a human body?” I asked, my tone light, my insides feeling leaden. “That might be cute if you thought it was true.
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Your enemy's enemy is your friend
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Vee lowered her lashes and smiled wickedly. This class isn't going to teach me anything I don't already know. Vee? As in virgin? Not so loud. She winked just as the bell rang, sending us both to our seats, which were side by side at our shared table.
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The guy I've got my eye on happens to be hot. Off-the-charts hot. Hotter-than-Patch hot.' She paused. 'Well maybe not that hot. Nobody's that hot.
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I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.
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I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn't right. You haven't fooled everybody. I'm going to find out what you're up to. I'm going to expose you. Looking forward to it.
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Since the dawn of time, women have been attracted to mates with strong survival skills—like intelligence and physical prowess— because men with these qualities are more likely to bring home dinner at the end of the day.” He stuck his thumbs in the air and grinned. “Dinner equals survival, team
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Busted. I'm a monster. Jev is my deceptively harmless-and shockingly handsome-alter ego.
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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
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If I missed out on some really big action, I’m going to be royally pissed off!
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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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She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.
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Well, well,” he said. “Five days a week isn’t enough of me? Had to give me an evening, too?
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