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...but Dimitri...well, my former lover and instructor was in a category all his own. His fighting skills were beyond anyone else's, and he was using them all in defense of me. Stay back, he ordered me. They aren't laying a hand on you.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 47
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Wells
Beyond
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Well
Stay
Lover
Hand
Former
Anyone
Defense
Instructor
Fighting
Lovers
Instructors
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Using
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Skills
Ordered
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More quotes by Richelle Mead

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the kind of kiss that said, I want to consume every inch of you and hear you scream my name.
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People really want to set up these rivalries because there's a lot of vampire books out there. People want to believe we're all fierce rivals, and really there's just so much camaraderie with authors. Everyone kind of boosts each other.
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He glanced over at me, a smile twisting his lips. Hey, no advice, Ghost Girl. Guardians should be seen and not heard. I flipped him off for the Ghost Girl comment but he didn't notice because Lissa was talking to him again.
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You'll be alive', he pointed out. 'That's what matters. Enjoy what you have, every little detail of wherever you are. Don't focus on where you aren't.
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We can be together, Rose. Soon. We're almost there. And nothing will ever keep us apart.
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Jesse: Hey Rose, welcome back. Still breaking hearts? Rose: Are you volunteering?
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No. . .I mean, I'm sorry he. . .You know, said those things to you. It's part of being a 'good' family. Everyone's got skeletons in their closet.
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I disconnected as a sleepy Seth stepped out of the bedroom. “Who’s Dante? Was that a collect call to the Inferno?” “They won’t accept the charges,” I murmured.
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Really, it's my fault. It was there. A hundred times there. How often did I see it? I knew. It kept happening. Over and over, you'd say you were through with him...and over and over, I'd believe it...no matter what my eyes showed me. No matter what my heart told me. My. Fault.
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I certainly hadn't expected to walk away from today's trip with joint custody of a miniature dragon.
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I left the clinic in a daze that had nothing to do with my head injury. Clear up in a week or so? How could Dr. Olendzki speak so lightly about this? I was going to look like a mutant for Christmas and most of the ski trip. I had a black eye. A freaking black eye. And my mother had given it to me.
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The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically – yet skillfully – kissing you on top of silverware and china?
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I like you being the sinner you are. -Adrian Ivashkov
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I always love it whenever Rose delivers one of her witty one-liners—particularly when it’s a completely serious situation. The contrast always amuses me, but then, I’m biased.
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Oh God. She probably thinks we were off doing—you know—romantic type, um, things—
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It doesn’t matter,” said Adrian, smiling. He rested a hand on my shoulder. “Some things are worth the trouble.
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He flipped the dail, and I crossed my arms over my chest as some vaguely European-sounding band sang about how video had killed the radio star. I wished someone would kill this radio.
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Keep your love, I have no use for it anymore.
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He has no right to threaten my boyfriends. I'm eighteen. An adult. I don't need his help. I can threaten my boyfriends myself.
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We all have moments of weakness. It’s how we recover from them that really counts.
Richelle Mead