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Violence doesn't equal strength.
Becca Fitzpatrick
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Becca Fitzpatrick
Age: 45
Born: 1979
Born: February 3
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Novelist
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Centerville
Utah
Equal
Strength
Violence
Doesn
More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick
Do you think the Bible is accurate? I mean, do you think it's real? I think Pastor Calvin is hot. In a fortysomething way. That pretty much sums up my religious conviction
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Are you gloating inside? That's what this is about, isn't it? Getting me to trust you so you could blow it up in my face! [...] I get that you're angry—, said Patch. I am ripped apart! I shouted.
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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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Ready? Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles. Ready to wrestle with my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that. Amusement softened his eyes. I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen? I added. Patch grinned. Sounds promising.
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Your mom isn’t going to let me step foot inside this place. I’ve seen the gun she keeps on the top shelf of the pantry.
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I'm a private contractor now. I choose my clients, not the other way around.
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A feeling of violation swayed inside me, making me feel as if Id been shoved off a high platform without warning. I was falling, and I feared the sensation far more than hitting bottom. There was no end just a constantsense of gravity having its way with me.
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I can't imagine why you're so interested. He shook his head. Interested? We're talking about you. I'm fascinated.
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It was a smile that spelled trouble. With a promise.
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Stay with me tonight. Let me hold you even if that's all it is. Let me keep you safe.
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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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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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Just because I've gone and snagged myself a hot boyfriend doesn't mean I'm going to leave my bestfriend high and dry.
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The only thing a boyfriend was good for was a shattered heart.
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I wanted to imprint his touch, his taste, even the scent of him so solidly inside me that no one could take them away from me.
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We need a ride. We're stranded. We still have two legs, leftie and rightie. Mine are in the mood for exercise. They feel like a nice long walk--ARE YOU CRAZY? she shrieked. I was standing with the tip of the beach umbrella aimed at the driver's-side window. What? I said. We have to get in.
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This is crazy, I told Patch in an undertone. I'm crazy. He was on the brink of smiling again. About you.
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Maybe Scotty the Potty turned into Scotty the Hottie. Have you thought about that?
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You never know what you're going to have to face, so you'd better be prepared.
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You’re not going to drive me home?” I asked. A waste of breath, since I knew her answer. “There’s fog.” “Patchy fog.” Vee grinned. “Oh, boy. He is so on your mind. Not that I blame you. Personally, I’m hoping I dream about him tonight.
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