Quote

Rose,” he said, forcibly trying to keep a serious tone, “I can think of many words to describe you, sexy and hot being at the top of the list. You know what’s not on the list? Sane.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Words
Describe
Keep
List
Many
Lists
Trying
Tone
Think
Hot
Thinking
Sexy
Rose
Forcibly
Serious
Sane

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My life was split by two worlds, but he kept me whole.
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I decided the Alchemists needed an entire department devoted to handling Adrian Ivashkov.
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I’m not a warrior or a goddess,” I said at last. Adrian leaned closer. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re both.
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Moroi shied from the sunlight but as I watched Sydney, I knew without a doubt that humans had been made for the sun.
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You're burned into my mind forever
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He stepped back and threw his arms out. I'm always crazy around you Rose. Here, I'm going to write an impromptu poem for you. He tipped his head back and shouted to the sky: Rose is in red But never in blue Sharp as a thorn Fights like one too.
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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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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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He's an angel. Isn't he supposed to love everyone, even the damned? Especially when said damned are his drinking buddies.
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Life, unfortunately, doesnʹt seem to care what we want. Act now while you can actually stop it from being a disaster.
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You shook his hand? Adrian asked incredulously … “With all that red-hot passion, it’s a wonder you guys can stay away from each other
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You are so beautiful, it hurts me sometimes. -Dimitri to Rose
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Oh God. Why, oh why, did I have to be the one to deliver this news? Why couldn’t I be locked away in my room or the library doing something enjoyable, like homework?
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And after a while...I mean how do you choose? Who gets to live? Part of life is that...well, some people have to die.
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Having your own, um, cave at eighteen is pretty cool.
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Mmm. O positive, my favorite.” “Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon.” “So it is,” said Adrian, straight-faced. “My mistake.
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I nearly dropped the plate I held. You've asked me out tons of times. Not really. I've made inapproprite suggestions and frequently pushed for nudity. But I've never asked you out on a real date. And, if memory serves, you did say you'd give me a fair chance once I let you clean out my trust fund. I didn't clean it out, I scoffed.
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His fingers never ceased to amaze me. They could break a man's neck, bandage a wound, and slide sensually across bare skin.
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You managed to get him a duster, but you couldn't find me a pair of jeans?
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You're not as much of a lost cause as she was. I mean, with her, I had to overcome her deep, epic love with a Russian warlord. You and I just have to overcome hundreds of years' worth of deeply ingrained prejudice and taboo between our two races. Easy.
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