Richelle Mead (born November 12, 1976) is a bestselling American fantasy author. She is known for the Georgina Kincaid series, Vampire Academy, Bloodlines and the Dark Swan series.
What's that?" he asked, when I stood beside him again. "Halos," I said with a grin. "For heavenly creatures like us. " "That might be a stretch.
I have to get back there. " I said to Adrian. "Into that door. " He arched an eyebrow. "What, like sneaking in? How very black ops of you. And oh, you know— dangerous and foolish. " "I know. " I said, surprised at how calm I sounded as I admitted that. "But I have to know something, and this may be my only chance. " "Then I'll go with you in case that guy comes back," he said with a sigh. "Never let it be said Adrian Ivashkov doesn't help damsels in distress.
If you try to turn me against Lissa one more time the stories are going to be about you bleeding because I'll have ripped your throat out!
Adrian looked away from me and down to where my hand covered his. I blushed and pulled away. “Sorry” I’d probably freaked him out
I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen that much of him on display. It was wonderful and frightening on the same time. I then said the stupidest thing possible. "You're not scared of anything. " "I'm scared of a lot of things. I was scared for you" He released me, and I stepped back. There was still passion and worry written all over him. "I'm not perfect, I'm not invulnerable.
Rose and Dimitri moved almost as one entity, like a matched pair of wolfes or lions, both wary and deadly as they studied their surroundings, taking no detail or person for granted.
Is Hopper celebrating with you?” “Hopper? Why would—” My mouth snapped shut for a few moments. “Oh. I, uh, kind of forgot about him.
It’s easy to want peace and love in hypothetical situations—then reality sets in, and sometimes we have to do what’s ugly.
He didn't see me looking at him, but I could tell the ceremony was having the same effect on him. He was enraptured. It was a rare and sweet look for him, reminding me of the tortured artist that lived beneath the sarcasm. I liked that about Adrian—not the tortured part, but the way he could feel so deeply and then transform those emotions into art.
Ah, well,ʺ said Abe, idly studying his fingertips. ʺI have it on good authority thereʹs going to be a new ‘gateʹ opening up soon over on the south side of the wall. " The truth dawned on me. ʺOh lord. Youʹre the one whoʹs been doling out C4. ʺ ʺYou make it sound so easy,ʺ he said with a frown. ʺThat stuffʹs hard to get a hold of.
Why not wear a scar of Motherhood? Better than a tattoo or a mark of Honor. Let the world know what you've achieved.
And I told you, I'm not going to pursue another man's girlfriend. You want to talk honor. There it is in its purest form
After almost exactly three hours, we rolled into a small hole of a town that had one traffic light and a resturant simply marked DINER. There hadn't been any traffic on the road for over an hour, though, which was really the most important thing. We hadn't been followed. Sydney drove us to a building with a sign that read MOTEL. Apparently this town liked to stick to the basics when it came to names. I wouldn't be surprised if it was actually just called TOWN.
I think I’ve got something else to help center my life.
I don't remember you being this reasonable before, " Lissa said. "It's because everyone has different definitions of 'reasonable. ' Mine's just misunderstood, that's all. " Christian's voice was lofty. "I think you must be misunderstood a lot, " she laughed. His eyes held hers, and the smile on his face transformed into something warmer and softer. "Well, I hope this isn't misunderstood. Otherwise, I might get punched. " Leaning over, he brought his lips to hers. Lissa responded with no hesitation or thought whatsoever, losing herself in the sweetness of the kiss.
I fought against her, trying to mount some kind of defense, but it was like fighting Dimitri on crack.
When we were almost to the other campus, I felt the weird nausea hit me. I called a warning to Christian, just as a Strigoi grabbed him. But Christian was fast. Flames wreathed the Strigoi's head. He screamed and released Christian, trying frantically to put the flames out. The Strigoi never saw me coming with the stake. The whole thing took under a minute. Christian and I exchanged looks. Yeah. We were badasses.
My death will not be penciled on someone's calendar.
I decided the Alchemists needed an entire department devoted to handling Adrian Ivashkov.
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.