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I clung to that spark of hope, nurturing it into a small flame that chased some of the shadows in my heart away.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Flames
Shadow
Clung
Small
Chased
Hope
Nurturing
Away
Spark
Heart
Flame
Sparks
Shadows

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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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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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Tradition or not, I sometimes thought putting children on an old guy’s lap was already creepy enough. We didn’t need to mix alcohol into it.
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What is it with you and frozen desserts Why do you always want them? Because we live in a dessert.
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i will always love you. no you won't. you'll move on. So will i.
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Nah, you always look good. As for me … well, it's hard to explain. The auras are getting to me. There's so much sorrow around here. You can't even begin to understand. It radiates from everyone on a spiritual level. It's overwhelming. It makes your dark aura downright cheerful.
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I’m not dangerous,” I breathed. He brought his face toward mine. “You are to me.” And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing.
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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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Even when I was dizzy with vodka, that smile never failed to make my heart speed up.
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I tried to dredge up the same reaction other girls had around Marcus, but nothing happened. No matter how hard I tried, I just didn't have that same attraction His hair was too blond, I decided. And his eyes needed a little more green.
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It’s Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don’t try to understand it. Just roll with it.
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Happy Birthday. Adrian came to a sudden halt. The words were soft and small, spoken tentatively, but easily discerned by vampire ears. Slowly, he turned around and found Jill Mastrano standing shyly before him.
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Impossible situations are our specialty.
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I didn't think my day could get any worse until my best friend told me she might be going crazy. Again.
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Under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day.
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You are the most boring teacher ever. He grinned and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, just as a knock sounded at the door. It all depends on what you me to teach you.
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Well, you can think what you want, so long as you remember - no matter how ordinary things seem between us - I'm still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy, evil or otherwise, ever will.
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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've got to take it on faith that the enemy of your enemy is your friend.
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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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