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So,would you say I’m closer to a zombie or a vampire? I gotta know—are my parts going to rot and fall off, or am I forever frozen in youthful perfection?

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Would
Vampire
Gotta
Closer
Parts
Perfection
Forever
Youthful
Fall
Zombie
Going
Frozen

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I couldn't see who swam in the darkness, who wore shadows like a second skin.
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My aunt and overprivileged cousin only recognize two states of being: glitter and grunge. And if you weren’t glitter, well, that only left one other option.
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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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Not that I don't appreciate the rescue, Holt said. But I'm forced to ask, in the interest of self-preservation ... exactly how well armed are you right now?
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You don't know me. Don't ever think you know me. The only things you know about me are the things you made me do, and that illustrates your character, not mine.
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Why is this so hard?” I whispered. His pulse leaped crazily at my admission. “Everything worth fighting for is hard.
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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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The school sent you flowers. I’m sure that totally makes up for the fact that they hired the psychotic, soul-stealing pedophile who murdered you in your own home.
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Meow, Meow, Motherfucker.
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If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.
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Em didn't truly understand about my panic attacks - no one did. But she'd never pushed me to explain, never tried to ditch me when things got weird, and never once looked at me like I was a freak.
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Most aspects of my training didn’t agree with me. There wasn’t as much bossing around as I’d hoped for, and there was way too much following orders.
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A cat’s body can sustain a lot of damage without actually dying,” Lucas said, his voice as deep as the rumble of the earth itself. “You just think about that before you so much as scratch yourself without permission.” Ryan gulped and nodded, still mute.
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Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination. No, this is an execution. The difference would be...? Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.
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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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A smart woman would have shut up. Did I? Hell no. Intelligence is overrated anyway.
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I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.
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Should I assume the lure is a certain attractive young dead man?
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Sneak out. He shrugged, as if that should have been a no-brainer. But that was easy for him to say. He was dead. What else could they do to him, take away his birthday?
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At least you don’t need a prescription for tequila.
Rachel Vincent