Mr. Green Sweater looks normal, but his wingman looks hard-core bad boy,” said Vee. “Emits a certain don’t-mess-with-me signal. Tell me he doesn’t look like Dracula’s spawn. Tell me I’m imagining things. — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
I nibbled my lower lip. "If you could see into my past just by touching my back, you'd have a hard time resisting the… — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
Cheshvan starts tonight," Rixon said, "What are you doing arsing around in a graveyard?" "Thinking." "Thinking?" "A process by which I use my brain… — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
Hang on, did you just call me Angel?” I asked. “If I did?” “I don’t like it.” He grinned. “It stays. Angel.” He leaned… — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
You’re impinging on my private space,” I said, inching backward. Patch gave a barely-there smile. "Impinging? This isn’t the SAT, Nora. — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
“I have a hard time keeping my hands off you without that added bonus” — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
Tacos." "Tacos?" I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. "Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese." "I know what a taco is! — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
That woman." Vee hissed, "I'm making the sign of the cross right now. — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
For the first time all day I felt safe. Except that Patch had cornered me in a dark tunnel and was possibly stalking me.… — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
You smell good." "It's called a shower. Soap, shampoo, water-" "Naked. I know the drill. — Becca Fitzpatrick Copy Share Image
