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I hadn't gotten far when I ran into Mason. Good God. Men everywhere.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 47
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Good
Men
Mason
Masons
Ran
Hadn
Gotten
Everywhere

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There was a look of woe on his face that was almost comical. Raids, bullets, criminals...no problem. A missing duster? Crisis.
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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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I need you,ʺ said Lissa. ʺI hear that from women a lot,ʺ said Adrian.
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The problem with having so many people call me by nicknames was that when someone called me by my actual name, it usually meant something serious was happening.
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Shouldn't that be flipped right-side up? I asked. No, she said, eyes on the cards. After several moments of heavy silence, said, You will destroy that which is undead. I waited about thirty seconds for her to continue, but she didn't. Wait, that's it? She nodded. That's what the cards say to me.
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Ah, my daughter,ʺ he said. ʺEighteen, and already youʹve been accused of murder, aided felons, and acquired a death count higher than most guardians will ever see.ʺ He paused. ʺI couldnʹt be prouder.
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Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one. That’s what I was supposed to say... he gasped out. Those were his last words.
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And you work for that demon, right? The one who looks like Matthew Broderick?” “John Cusack,” I corrected. “He looks like John Cusack.” “Whatever.
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No, but ... But I had felt something from another person. Someone who spent time with Alec. The last card in my head flipped over. I know who it is. It's him. That guy. Of course, said Carter dryly. I knew it was that guy. It's always that guy.
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He'd written me up a proposal of why dating him was a sound decision. It had included things like I'll give up cigarettes unless I really, really need one and I'll unleash romantic surprises every week, such as: an impromptu picnic, roses, or a trip to Paris—but not actually any of those things because now they're not surprises.
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your eyes... they're beautiful.you're beautiful. *sigh*
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You aren't afraid of throwing yourself in the path of danger, but you're terrified of letting anyone in.
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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.
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You have to protect her. The more she uses it, the worse it'll get. Stop her, Rose. Stop her before they notice, before they notice and take her away too. Get her out of here. [...] Don't let her use the power!. . .Save her. Save her from herself!
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The love in his eyes was so powerful, I needed to look away. Seth had an amazing grasp of the English language, but there were days when that skill was nothing compared to what he told me in his looks.
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Dmitri was at a total loss. It was a common reaction for people when I agreed to do something reasonable.
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I don’t know, Sage. You threw yourself in the line of pepper spray for me. You must like me just a little bit.” “I— I figured it’d be a shame to ruin your pretty face,” I stammered.
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I can pick a lock. How do you think I got into my parents' liquor cabinet in middle school?
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Thatʹs a dangerous look,ʺ said Dimitri, giving me a brief glance before returning his eyes to the road. ʺWhat look?ʺ I asked innocently. ʺThe one that says you just got some idea.
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Guys do ridiculous things for love. Adrian reached into his pocket and held up a pack of cigarettes. Do you know how badly I want one of these right now? Yet I suffer, Rose. All for you.
Richelle Mead