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That's pretty hot, he said. Punching me in the eye? Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports. I'm sure you are.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Sure
Contact
Getting
Meant
Eye
Fans
Bigs
Pretty
Idea
Full
Ideas
Sports
Punching
Wells
Courses
Rough
Well
Course
Hot

More quotes by Richelle Mead

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Later, I would ask Shaya to help me compose a formal response to Katrice's letter, something a long the lines of I am the Thorn Queen. F*** Off.
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My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. What about them? The color, he breathed. When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those... He reached toward me but then pulled back. They're beautiful. You're beautiful.
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You're beautiful in battle. ... Like an avenging angel come to deliver the justice of heaven. Funny. That is kind of why I'm here. Angels fall, Rose.
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Adrian gave the picture a nod of approval before handing me the phone. Okay, even I can admit that's pretty cute. I found myself overanalyzing the comment. What had he meant in saying 'even he' could admit it? That I was cute for a human? Or that I had just met some kind of Adrian hot-girl criteria?
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Adrian looked away from me and down to where my hand covered his. I blushed and pulled away. “Sorry” I’d probably freaked him out
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Jesse: Hey Rose, welcome back. Still breaking hearts? Rose: Are you volunteering?
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Is Adrian here?” “Who?” “Adrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes.” She frowned. “Do you mean Jet?” “I … I’m not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?” The girl nodded sagely. “Yup. You must mean Jet.
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Abe glanced at Rose. You see that? he said. Now that's devotion. She rolled her eyes at him.
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Adrian tipped my face up toward his and kissed me. Like always, the world around me stopped moving. No, the world became Adrian, only Adrian.
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She didnʹt know if she could carry on by herself, but then, she realized that if this wasnʹt a dream—and dear God, did it feel real—there was no magic ʺstopʺ in real life. If she couldnʹt deal with loneliness in a dream, she never would be able to while waking.
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But what I found most interesting was that Aaron had apparently found a way to pass the time without her. Beside him, holding his hand, was a Moroi girl who looked about eleven but had to be older, unless he'd become a pedophile during our absence.
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I loved you! he yelled. He jumped up out of his chair so quickly I never saw it coming. I loved you, and you destroyed me. You took my heart and ripped it up.
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I look him in the eye. I will always love you.
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Promises. I was drowning in promises.
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Conversation was irrelevant. Only pie mattered.
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Juliet had it easy she never had to kill Romeo.
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Janine Hathaway offered to be my guardian, said Lissa suddenly. Janine Hathaway? Tatiana's eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. I'm sure she has other commitments. No, we've got much better choices. A better choice than Janine Hathaway? Not likely. Before Dimitri, my mother had been the gold standard by which I measured all badassednes
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I hadn't gotten far when I ran into Mason. Good God. Men everywhere.
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Surely I must be a princess in an enchanted sleep. Any day now, this dream-no, nightmare would end, and I’d get my prince and happy ending.
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It was the most convulted, ridiculous piece of logic I'd heard in awhile... It was something I would have come up with.
Richelle Mead