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I’m sorry ma’am,” I said. Really, I had no idea what else to say. I’d spent the weekend caught up in an epic battle to save humanity, and now… jean shorts?
Richelle Mead
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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Save
Battle
Jean
Humanity
Shorts
Idea
Epic
Else
Weekend
Ideas
Spent
Really
Caught
Sorry
More quotes by Richelle Mead
No, no. It's always a good time for you to call, Roza.
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Dimitri: I also have a feeling your mother's going to have one ugly conversation with me. Rose: You're about to go face down Strigoi, and my mother's the one you're scared of? Dimitri: She's a force to be reckoned with. Where do you think you got it from? Rose: It's a wonder you bother with me then. Dimitri: You're worth it, beli
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People who are crazy rarely question whether they're crazy.
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Abe shook his head, and now the smile was gone altogether. That's not the reason either. Don't lie to me little girl. I felt my hackles going up. And don't interrogate me, old man.
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Dimitri: Don't look at me like that. Rose: Like what? Dimitri: You've got this look on your face that says you think I'm delusional, but you're too nice to say anything.
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Was Deirdre right about me purposely wanting relationships that were impossible?
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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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Did you know that it's a lot harder to put organs back in the body than it is to get them out?
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People often ask where I get my inspiration from, and I always say I have no good answer because, well, inspiration comes from everywhere: people, places, memories.
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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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Is it true? You had a clean getaway and risked it all for me? I Swallowed. It wouldn't have been a clean getaway without you.
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Not into older guys, huh? asked Adrian once we were alone. You're imagining things, I said. Clearly, my stunning beauty has clouded your mind.
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Then, as one hand tightened on me and his other ran gently over my hair, I noticed something. He didn't smell right.
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Aubrey, crouching on a nearby counter, watched me with squinty eyes, apparently pondering why anyone would willingly immerse themselves in water ever, let alone for extended periods of time.
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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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I need it! I need it! It's a royal heirloom! Adrian? What are you doing here? Looking for you. Come on, we need to go. I'll drive you home. No, I can't. Not until we get it. He stole it!
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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.
Richelle Mead
Would he have said he loved me? I would ask myself that for the rest of my life.
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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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I can't shut my brain off. It's like a hamster wheel. ~ Justin
Richelle Mead