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What I really wanted was the impossible.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Impossible
Wanted
Really

More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick

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He gave Marcie a spare to the Jeep—I should park this thing in the ocean, twenty feet under.
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Jev stroked his chin. Do I look like a summer fling?
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If I could make this go away, I would. If I could stand in your place, I wouldn't hesitate. But I'm left with one choice, and that's to stand by your side through the end. I won't waver, Angel, I can promise you that. -Patch to Nora
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I gave up something I wanted for something I need. And I need you, Angel. More than I think you'll ever know.
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She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.
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She cleans a toilet inside and out under a minute. More like terrifying
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Maybe Scotty the Potty turned into Scotty the Hottie. Have you thought about that?
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Killer skirt, deadly legs.
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The more time I spent with him, the more I knew the feelings weren't going away.
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I take that back. If Hank wants to shoot Scott, he has my blessing.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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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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You're mine, Angel, he murmured, brushing the words across my jawbone as I arched my neck higher, inviting him to kiss everywhere. You have me forever.
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If I were thinking straight, I'd take you home right now.
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He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.
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Nothing makes me happy quite like a boatload of freshly fried fast food, smothered in good old MSG.
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You’re impinging on my private space,” I said, inching backward. Patch gave a barely-there smile. Impinging? This isn’t the SAT, Nora.
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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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There was nothing wrong with fire … as long as you didn’t stand too close. Something to keep in mind.
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Strangely enough, it wasn’t Gabe who was haunting my thoughts, though. That job belonged to a pair of sinfully black eyes that had lost their edge when they studied me, turning as soft and sultry as silk.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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What little light was left inside me flickered out.
Becca Fitzpatrick