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There was just no good way for a dead son to greet his mother almost two weeks after his funeral.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Two
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Weeks
Son
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Week
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Mother

More quotes by Rachel Vincent

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Like I'm going to pass up an opportunity to smack your cousin.
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So, did the costume come with a condom, or is that sold separately?
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You thought you could figure that out online? Somehow I don't think hellions are much into social networking.
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Why do I always have to be the one who says 'stop'? I demanded, my voice little more than a moan. You don't. In fact, at this point I'm considering a petition to that word stricken from the English language. His grin was almost lazy, the gleam in his eyes an effortless challenge. If I did, would you sign?
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The moment the door opened I knew an ass-kicking was inevitable. Whether I'd be giving it or receiving it was still a bit of a mystery.
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Then strong, warm arms wrapped around me from behind. I've got you, Tod whispered in my ear.
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So what does Tod look like? Whitewashed skeleton skulking around in a black cape and hood? Carrying a scythe? 'Cause I'm thinking that would cause mass panic in the hospital. ..... Do you chase after a funeral processions in a long, dirty dress, hair trailing behind you in the wind? I shot him a mock frown. Have you been following me again?
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I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.
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Now if you’ll excuse me, Death waits for no man. Except me.
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Have you and Nash both lost your minds? This is really a very simple concept--one that you taught me! Hellion equals evil. Period! -Kaylee to Tod
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Uh, yeah, I do. The scythe was a little tricky at first, but—much like golf—turns out it’s all in the swing.
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I live to serve. except the part about living...
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... you just turned down the woman who put a marshmallow duck in your hot chocolate. I hope you feel like a real asshole now.
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I wanted a do over. A time machine. That magic wand. But real life didn't have any easy outs, and very few happily-ever-afters. The real world was more like a Choose Your Own Adventure book, with most of the choices ripped out before you even opened the cover.
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...sometimes compassion is the greater part of honor.
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I want you, Kaylee, like I’ve never wanted anything. Ever. I want the fire. I want the heat, and the light, and I want the burn.
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So you’re saying the afterlife is hard on the libido? FYI, that’s probably not a good bullet point for your recruiting brochure.
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Standing, I turned to face my father. “It’s the same as the scent on Moore. It’s definitely a foreign cat, but it’s...more, somehow.” Ethan snickered at my unintentional pun, but I ignored him.
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If Eastlake High School were the universe, I would be one of the moons circling Planet Emma, constantly hidden by her shadow, and glad to be there. Nash Hudson would be one of the stars: too bright to look at, too hot to touch and at the center of his own solar system.
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Kaylee, you're adding two and two and coming up with seven.
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