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Abe glanced at Rose. You see that? he said. Now that's devotion. She rolled her eyes at him.
Richelle Mead
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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Devotion
Rose
Eyes
Eye
Abe
Glanced
Rolled
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He was almost naked too, but I hadn't quite gotten to his boxers yet. (They were silk because, honestly what else would Adrian wear?)
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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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I haven’t even really tried to win you over, Roza. When I want to, I can be very persuasive.
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Are you kidding? He's arrogant, sarcastic, likes to intimidate people, and—oh. Okay. Maybe she had a point.
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I certainly hadn't expected to walk away from today's trip with joint custody of a miniature dragon.
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It is terrifying,” said Adrian. “And weird, for lack of a better word. And part of you knows… well, part of you knows something’s not right. That your thinking’s not right. But what do you about that? All we can go on is what we think, how we see the world. If you can’t trust your own mind, what can you trust? What other people tell you?
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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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We can't stop living because other people are dead.
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What do you think Dimitri? Is this a good idea, Dimitri? Please give us your blessing so that we can fall down and worship you, Dimitri.
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Feminist,” he said, clearly amused. “Next you’ll be telling us you hate men.” She gave him a blank look. “I only hate stupid men who don’t actually understand what ‘feminist’ means.” He laughed. “You run into a lot of men like that?” “All the time.” “Really?” “Even as we speak, Nick.” “Oh no she didn’t,” said Peter. I groaned.
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Some part of you will always ... fight to cling to life and experience all it has. That's why you're so reckless in the things you do. You don't hold back your feelings, your passion, your anger. It makes you remarkable. It makes you dangerous
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Conversation was irrelevant. Only pie mattered.
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Different time, different place,” I said. “Things can change. People can change.
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Was it weird having a witch grandma? Scary? Was she always, like, threatening to cast spells if you were bad? Most of the time she just threatened to send me to my room. That doesn't sound so scary to me. That's because you haven't met her.
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Is Adrian here?” “Who?” “Adrian. Tall. Brown hair. Green eyes.” She frowned. “Do you mean Jet?” “I … I’m not sure. Does he smoke like a chimney?” The girl nodded sagely. “Yup. You must mean Jet.
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Something clenched in my chest, and for a moment, the whole world narrowed down to the green of his eyes.
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It doesn’t matter,” said Adrian, smiling. He rested a hand on my shoulder. “Some things are worth the trouble.
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