Quote

If you try to turn me against Lissa one more time the stories are going to be about you bleeding because I'll have ripped your throat out!

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Time
Ripped
Bleeding
Throat
Turn
Turns
Stories
Trying
Going
Lissa

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Can't you ever get off for good behavior? Sure, if I was ever good.
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You’ll have your own superhero club before you know it.
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if you'd teach me to swear in russian, i might have a new appreciation for it
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What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?
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He was too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people I knew.
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Everything‟s fine,” I said, with a tight smile. “Kiyo was just giving me his latest explanation about how my son is a terror to be feared.” Dorian scoffed. “Little Thundro? A terror? Hardly, unless perhaps we‟re discussing diapers.
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Who is he? An idiot, said Adrian. Makes me look like an upstanding member of society.
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I look him in the eye. I will always love you.
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Plus, I was about to spend six weeks with Christian Ozera. He was sarcastic, difficult, and made jokes about everything. Actually, he was a lot like me. It was going to be a long six weeks.
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Lucky Charms?” I asked. “Magically delicious,” he explained. “Requisite for any sort of building project.” I shook my head, still amazed at how he had managed to weasel his way over here. “This isn’t a date.” He cut me a scandalized look. Obviously. I’d bring Count Chocula for that.
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Another power I don't have, said Lissa ruefully. I grinned. Hey, I have yet to meet any spirit user who can throw a punch like you can. That was poetry in motion, Liss. She groaned.
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I had no reason to get all goofy, just because the man was too good-looking for his own good.
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So much grief, so much anger. So unlike the usual Adrian.
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The answer came to me before I'd even finished asking myself the question. I couldn't be Mason's girlfriend because when I imagined someone holding me and whispering dirty things in my ear, he had a Russian accent.
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Our gazes locked, so much passing between us. In those moments, I wasn't in a tent with him, on the run from those who regarded us as villains. There was no murderer to catch, no Strigoi trauma to overcome. There was just him and me and the feelings that had burned between us for so long.
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Weirdly, an image of Adrian’s Love painting came back to me. I thought of the jagged red streak, slashing through the blackness, ripping it apart. Staring at Jill and her inconsolable pain, I suddenly understood his art a little bit better.
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My boyfriend was insanely sexy, vampire or not, and I couldn't keep my hands off him.
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Love and Loyalty, run deeper than blood. Love that quote even though I haven't read the book.
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I thought Alchemists avoided alcohol the same way they do primary colors.
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