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Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?” I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.” “I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light it on fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.

Becca Fitzpatrick

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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Centerville
Utah
Hate
Naturally
Light
Red
Come
Wouldn
Hair
Turn
Patch
Fire
Stared
Break
Patches
Turns
Smiled

More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick

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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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He cracked a slight smile, but it didn’t look amused. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re looking a little deranged, Angel. We’ll go together.
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I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life. You haunted me to the point that I began to believe Hank had gone back on his oath and killed you. I couldn't escape you and I didn't want to. You tortured me, but it was better than losing you.
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But if I hadn't fallen, I wouldn't have met you.
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I’m doing boy detox. Like a diet, only for my emotional health.
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Try it on. It's probably a little snug, I said, suddenly feeling conspicuous. Marcie tends to buy down when it comes to sizing. He merely smiled. It has a slit up the thigh. His smile deepened.
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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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...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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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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Or, if you decide you want to sleep at my place, on opposite sides of my bedroom with a Do Not Cross line drawn down the middle, I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it.
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He tried to pull me against him, and I bit him on the lip. He licked his lip with the tip of his tongue. 'Did you just bite me?
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You find the wrong boy, you ask for trouble. You find the right boy, you find love.
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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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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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Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.
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Violence doesn't equal strength.
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I forced a smile. It was the one I'd been practicing all morning. It felt tight at the edges and brittle everywhere in between.
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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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Hang on, did you just call me Angel?” I asked. “If I did?” “I don’t like it.” He grinned. “It stays. Angel.” He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late.
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Hang on, did you just call me Angel? I asked. If I did? I don't like it. He grinned. It stays, Angel.
Becca Fitzpatrick