Richelle Mead Quotes

Bless you, daugher of man," Carter said, his eyes luminous and almost silver now. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes and caught my breath. His lips were both burning hot and icy cold.

Adrian suddenly glanced up at me. Our gazes locked, and I felt like he could read my mind. How often did he think about that kiss? And if he really was crazy about me, did he imagine more than just kissing? Did he fantasize about me? What kinds of things did he think about? His lips on my neck? His hand on my leg? And was that leg bare . . . ?

Where are you going?" he asked."To break someone's heart," I replied.

Keith was just bringing the glass to his lips when Adrian said, "Mmm. O positive, my favorite."Keith sprayed out the wine he'd just drunk and promptly started coughing. I was relieved that none got on me. jill burst into giggles, and Clarence stared at his glass wonderingly."Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon.""So it is," said Adrian, straight-faced. "My mistake.

Sage.” He laughed. “I’m into anything, so long as you’re with me.

Christian's family lived under the shadow cast by his parents. They had purposely become Striogi, trading thier magic and mortality to become immortal and subsist on killing others. His parents were dead now, but that didn't stop people from not trusting him. They seemed to think he'd go Strigoi at any moment and take everyone else with him. His abrasiveness and dark sence of humor didn't really help things, either.

Once all the blocks were on the quad, Rowena grew obsessed with arranging them perfectly. I didn’t care at this point and busied myself texting a message to Sydney on the Love Phone, letting her know that my art was a paltry thing compared to the brilliance of her beauty. She texted back: This is me rolling my eyes. To which I replied: I love you too.

Hey,” he replied. “You look beautiful today.”I glanced down and laughed. Along with my limited wardrobe, I was also discovering that not doing laundry decreased my clothing options even further. I was in jeans and a plain black T-shirt today, and my hair had been lucky to get a quick brushing, let alone any real styling. I’d overslept and figured beachcombing didn’t require much primping anyway.“Liar,” I said. “I practically rolled out of bed this morning.”“You forget that I’ve seen you in just about every state imaginable. You don’t have to have every detail primped and perfect. You’re beautiful even when you’re disheveled. Sometimes more so.