A Quote by Nalini Singh

Are you?” “What?” “Venomous?” Another savage smile. He touched the tip of one fang with his tongue and when he drew it away, she saw a pearl of golden liquid. “Try me and see.” “Maybe later, after I’ve survived Michaela.
Elena wondered if Michaela was waiting to be served. Snorting inwardly at the idea, she poured her own coffee—and, because she was feeling generous, and okay, maybe because she wanted to irritate Michaela—Raphael’s as well. Then she put down the carafe.
Yes, you make yourself useful, angel boy. Meanwhile, I’ll be in the bathroom.” William’s jet-black hair was dripping wet and plastered to his face. There was a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, displaying muscles that rivaled Paris’s own, and a tattooed treasure map that led to his man junk. Looking at his, you could see the makings of a temper so savage anyone who miraculously survived an encounter with him would end up needing therapy. And diapers. “I’ve got to finish deep conditioning my hair.” Or maybe not so savage.
And Flock Rule Number Two is, Don't argue with Max or you'll live to regret it." I spun and stomped out to the clearing, turning back for one last jab at Dylan. "And by the way, you clearly DON'T know me better than Fang does. Do you see Fang arguing with me? No, you do not." Fang rolled his eyes.
But there was not a moment when she did not see Carol in her mind, and all she saw, she seemed to see through Carol. That evening, the dark flat streets of New York, the tomorrow of work, the milk bottle dropped and broken in her sink, became unimportant. She flung herself on her bed and drew a line with a pencil on a piece of paper. And another line, carefully, and another. A world was born around her, like a bright forest with a million shimmering leaves.
She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Leisel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist's suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers...She did not say goodbye. She was incapable, and after a few more minutes at his side, she was able to tear herself from the ground. It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on.
And then she said nothing else, for Henry put his arms around her and kissed her. Kissed her in such a way that she no longer felt plain, or conscious of her hair or the ink spot on her dress or anything but Henry, whom she had always loved. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, and when he drew away, he touched her wet face wonderingly. "Really," he said. "You love me, too, Lottie?
We’re staying together,” he promised. “You’re not getting away from me. Never again.” Only then did she understand what would happen. A one-way trip. A very hard fall. ”As long as we’re together,” she said. She heard Nico and Hazel still screaming for help. She saw sunlight far, far above- maybe the last sunlight she would ever see. Then Percy let go of his ledge, and together, holding hands, he and Annabeth fell into the endless darkness.
What he was scared of was not that maybe she was a creature who survived by drinking other people's blood. No, it was that she might push him away.
Pearl rolled a tiny pink speck in her fingers, possibly part of Rose's new leg that I'd tried so hard to make a good match. Pearl laughed and flicked it away as if it was snot out of her nose. I suddenly couldn't stand it. I rushed at her.She saw I wasn't playing around. She ran for it but I caught up with her along the landing. I punched her hard in the chest and she staggered back wards - back and back, and then she wobbled and went right over, down the stairs.
Later she sat on the ground in the forest between school and home, and spring was so bright and beautiful, the warm air touched her so tenderly, she could almost feel herself changing into a flower. Her light dress felt like petals. "I love everything," she heard herself say. "So do I," a voice answered. Pearl straightened up and looked around. No one was there.
She might not know what your routine is, but I do,” I said softly. “So put the lantern down. You’re not burning me yet, and we both know it.” “What’s she saying?” Sarah demanded, hobbling over. His white brows drew together, and I allowed a little smile to play on my lips. “Awfully bossy with you, isn’t she? Then again, it makes sense. She’s got the pants on, and you’re the one in the dress.
my mother, poor fish, wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile! why don't you ever smile?" and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw
She wore white heirloom lace about her throat And in her hair a bright golden feather A pearl like a plum hung ripe from her neck But her smile fetched ten gold together
You seem to be attracted to trouble," he said. "Yeah, she's real pretty," I replied. "Your tongue is sharper than mine ever was." I stuck out my tongue and tried to look at the tip of it.
My songs are always on the tip of my tongue. It's always bubbling and brewing and about to come out. I can't really put it into words, but the best way to explain it is feeling like you constantly have some things on the tip of your tongue.
I saw him [Khizr Khan]. He was, you know, very emotional. And probably looked like - a nice guy to me. His wife, if you look at his wife, she was standing there. She had nothing to say. She probably - maybe she wasn't allowed to have anything to say.
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