Quote

Your name?” I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered. “Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Mean
Patches
Repeated
Hoping
Name
Imagination
Names
Call
Faltered
Voice
Patch

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Hmm?' I looked away, flustered automatically using irritation to cover my discomfort up. 'What does 'hmm' have to do with anything? Could you ever use more that five words? All this grunting and minced words make you come across-- primal.' His smile tipped higher. 'Primal.' 'You're impossible.' 'Me Jev, you Nora.' -Nora & Patch (PG 226)
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Patch was in my life for a reason. I needed him. We were two halves of the same whole.
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She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.
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Cheshvan starts tonight, Rixon said, What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard? Thinking. Thinking? A process by which I use my brain to make a rational decision.
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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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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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They say that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. They never tell you that when you watch someone you once loved dying, hovering between this life and the next, it's twice as painful, because you're reliving two lives that traveled one road together.
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You smell good. It's called a shower. Soap, shampoo, water- Naked. I know the drill.
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What do I have to do to convince you that I'm only using Dabria for one reason, one only reason: Destroy Hank, bit by bit if is necessary,and make him pay for all the things he has done to harm the girl i love?
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She shrieked. Nora! What happened to the banister! Good thing she hadn't seen her bedroom yet.
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You're mine, Angel. And I'm yours. Nothing can change that.
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Let me show you,” he said in my ear. “Like this. Feel that? Relax. Now pivot your hips—it’s all in the hips.
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That woman. Vee hissed, I'm making the sign of the cross right now.
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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’m not stealing it. We’re stranded. This is called borrowing.” “This is called you’re crazy.
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I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.
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I turned my face up to his. I could hardly look at him the same way. I was crying without realizing I'd started. You made a deal with Hank. You saved my life. Why would you do that for me? Angel, he murmured, clasping my face between his hands. I don't think you understand the lengths I would go to if it means keeping you here with me.
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You're crazy. You're impossible.' 'I'm crazy?' He tipped my chin up and planted a quick, rough kiss on my mouth. 'And I must be crazy for putting up with it.
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I swear to you, Patch, to take your love and cherish it. And in return, to give you my body and my heart—everything I possess, I give to you. I am yours. Wholly and completely. Love me. Protect me. Fulfill me. And I promise to do the same.” ~ Nora + Patch
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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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