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He smiled and tapped my nose. Two thank-yous in as many days. I don't suppose I'll get to see any, uh, special gratitude? I scoffed. Nope. You'll just have to imagine it. He gave me a half-hug and released me. Fair enough. But I have a good imagination.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 47
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Two
Fair
Hug
Enough
Gratitude
Released
Many
Gave
Smiled
Good
Special
Nose
Days
Noses
Yous
Imagination
Suppose
Scoffed
Imagine
Thank
Nope
Half
Fairs
Tapped

More quotes by Richelle Mead

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You’re on the verge of getting your soul and your life back and he’s still what determines your happiness ? You don’t need a relationship to be happy, Georgina.
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We need to get inside. I think my hair gel’s frozen.
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You and I have never liked each other, Rose. If I’ve got to kill someone, it might as well be you.
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She probably gave up and started playing Minesweeper. [...] We reached the cafe and found Sydney bent over her laptop, with a barely eaten Danish and what was probably her fourth cup of coffee. We slid into seats beside her. How's it—hey! You ARE playing Minesweeper!
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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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Didn’t understand love? Was she crazy? If she only knew what I’d sacrificed for Dimitri, what I’d done to be where I was now . . . all for love. She was the one who couldn’t understand. Love wasn’t a fling in a back room at a party. It was something you lived and died for.
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Okay. Now you have to move your arms and legs.” “I know how to make a snow angel.” “Then do it! Otherwise, you’re more like a chalk outline at a police crime scene.
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We cannot road trip to Paris.
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His eyes, I’d long since discovered, could be as eloquent and expressive as his pen. The messages they sent me now hardly seemed decent for a public setting.
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Under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day.
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Too bad. Family members hit you by accident. Psychopathic whores tend to come back for more.
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Yeah. Rose. Jill sighed and stared vacantly ahead. She's all he sees when he closes his eyes. Flashing dark eyes and a body full of fire and energy. No matter how much he tries to forget her, no matter how much he drinks . . . she's always there. He can't escape her.
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Hey, Volusian, you haven't been checking me out, have you? He gave me his trademark bland stare. I assure you, mistress, the only allure your bare flesh has for me is to remind me how easy it will be to slice open. I laughed. If not for the fact he was actually serious, he'd be so much fun.
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We had an endless supply of topics, both of us eager to put forth all we knew on anything and everything. Most of the meal was spent discussing the intricacies of the organic certification process. It was pretty awesome.
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Not true,” said Adrian. “All guys mean the same thing when they want to ‘get to know a girl better.’ You’re a wellbred young lady, so I understand why you’d be too innocent to understand. Good thing you’ve got me here to interpret.
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My mother wasnʹt sleeping with anybody. She doesnʹt even sleep with my father.
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Now get some clothes on before the women around here are driven into a frenzy. He gave me a mournful look. I'm afraid that'll happen with or without clothes, my dear.
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Don't worry, I won't bite. At least not in the way you're afraid of.
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Sydney: I can do a lot of things, Adrian. And—at the risk of sounding egotistical —I mean, well, I can do a lot of pretty awesome things that most people can’t. Adrian: “Don’t I know it. You can change a tire in ten minutes while speaking Greek.” Sydney: “Five minutes.
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If he wants to tell you, he'll tell you. End of story, Rose. Besides, you certainly keep your share of secrets too. You two have a lot in common. Are you kidding? He's arrogant, sarcastic, likes to intimidate people, and—oh. Okay. Maybe she had a point.
Richelle Mead