Gavin stood within the trees, observing her from the shadows. He watched the basket rise to her nose as she closed her eyes to sniff at its contents. A smile told him it smelled delicious, but she didn’t open the container to pinch off a sample. Instead, the basket lowered to swing at her side as it had previously done.tAll at once the air was filled with soft singing--a sweet, merry tune comprised of ludicrous lyrics. It was impossible not to grin at the

Richelle E. Goodrich

And so the game went on in this manner, a throng of children playing keep-away from a bowling ball tossed back and forth between two plump ogres. The air filled with shrieks and cheers and shouts of laughter as daring players thrilled at the sport. That is, all but the few poor souls knocked flat and captured. No laughter rose from behind bars because those in the birdcage knew what was in store. They would soon be lunch for a couple of hungry ogres. tNow you might be thinking—didn’t Gavin call it fun when he was swallowed by a wolf earlier? And didn’t he tell that raven-haired girl it doesn’t hurt to be swallowed whole by a bear? All true, all true. But here’s a secret you might not

Richelle E. Goodrich

Never judge another knight without first knowing the strength and cunning of the dragons he fights.

Richelle E. Goodrich

I let my sword slip to the ground, and for the second time I stood unarmed in the presence of werewolves.Kresh put his lips to my forehead, and my skin burned beneath his kiss. When his hands repositioned to take me by the waist, my breathing—already shallow—ceased entirely. Then his lips fell on mine and I was suddenly everything he claimed me to be—his mate, his wife, his world.The taste of him seemed mysteriously new and old at the same time. Every bit of tension eased as if internally I had come home again, and yet a sense of foreignness made our connection a sweet venture. My breast was afire as he continued to grasp my hips, keeping me close. I burned for him as if vampire venom were coursing through every inch of me. The man was a constellation of suns in my desire, unlike Thaddeus who hardly equaled a speck of stardust. The thought of that coward reminded me of grim news. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to tear my lips away from what they craved, and yet I remained a submissive puddle in this werewolf’s arms.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Derian pulled the blanket snug around himself. “This is my added assurance.” Eena’s nose wrinkled. “It’s your what?” “If you recall the last time we were here standing in this very spot, you pelted me with neumberries.” He held up a single berry before popping it into his mouth. “I doubt you would risk soiling your blanket, so I figure wrapping it around me this way I’m pretty much assured safety from any potential attack.” He winked playfully, and she laughed out loud. “I’m afraid you don’t know me half as well as you think,” she announced. Aiming low, she flung a sizable berry at his calve. It hit its mark.“Whoa, whoa!” He lowered the blanket to cover his legs. “You can’t hide yourself entirely, Derian,” she said, aiming for his face. He ducked, raising the blanket like a shield in the process.Another round of ammunition pelted his ankles before he decided it was time to fight back. Eena found herself bound up in her own blanket, arms wrapped securely at her sides. She laughed nonstop, unable to move within his strong hold. Derian leaned forward until their noses touched, and then he kissed her giggles silent. He kept her in the blanket, snug and close to him, but Eena managed to wriggle an arm free and drape it around his neck, holding his lips in reach. She uttered a quick count in between kisses.“Seven,” she breathed.Derian paused, his mouth a whisper away from hers. It tickled when he spoke. “No, no, Eena.”“No what?”“No counting. Not today. No ground rules.”She barely uttered a partial “’kay” before his mouth covered hers again. His hot breath tasted like breakfast. He fixed his hands on each side of her face, and the blanket fell to the ground. As the intensity of their kisses grew hungry, he gripped her cheeks more securely. Eena could feel the air electrifying around them. Her heartbeat drummed—excited and anxious. “Derian…” she breathed. But he didn’t stop. She felt his hand move to support her neck while the other slid down her back, urging her closer. She brought her arms together and pressed against his chest, somewhat objecting to the intimacy.“Derian…” she tried again. But he covered her mouth with his own.She pushed more firmly against him without success. Her protest weakened as his kisses softened. The fervor subsided, and she could feel her wild pulse even out. Amidst a string of supple kisses, Derian’s breathing slowed. He planted his lips on her forehead for a moment before squeezing her tenderly. She snuggled up against his warm chest. “One ground rule,” he whispered in her ear. “We stop when you say ‘when.’”“When,” she uttered.“Okay,” he agreed.Then, as if the thought had just occurred to her, she stepped back to look up questioningly at the captain. “Wasn’t there a leftover sandwich in that basket from last night?”His lips formed a guilty smile as he confessed, “Yes—and it was delicious.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Turn around….you’ve got grass and dead flowers…”My fingers naturally began to comb through my long, black strands, shaking things loose as Sarti carefully removed more stubborn pieces. The flowers had been left over from my forced marriage to Thaddeus. The grass, from a sensual night with Kresh the eve of my honeymoon. Devilish irony.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Kresh kept silent beside me as Baron rehearsed his deadly plan. I listened with my eyes aimed at the horizon, witnessing the night consume a final red vein of daylight. It struck me that nightfall always drowned the sunset. Never did the sun resurface from where it sank, nor would it ever.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Annoyances are strangely not so annoying when the person responsible has endeared himself to you.

Richelle E. Goodrich

What are you most thankful for?” she asked.My reply came easily. “Being too blessed to have any hope of answering that question.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Some birthdays make you happy.Some birthdays bring you down.Some birthdays make you jump for joyWhile others paint a frown.Regardless of your feelingsOr if you’re far or near,The earth was blessed this special dayWhen Heaven placed you here.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Life’s journey doesn’t start on the highest mountain peak where a clear view of the trail ahead, obstacles and all, is laid out for us to observe before setting foot on the path. No. Life’s journey begins on a low road, in a valley, or even down inside a pit where the trail beyond can only be seen in short stretches, and any obstacles are met as they come. This makes life trying, even scary at times. Have faith that God gave you this life, and hence it is worth seeing through to the end of the trail.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Thank you for the day and night,for rainy spells and summer’s light.Thank you for the skies of blueand puffy clouds in grayish hue.Thank you for the gigglefestsand midnight’s cloak to hasten rest.Thank you for tomorrow newand yesterday’s tomorrow too.Thank you for “I’m glad we met”and also for “we haven’t yet.”Thank you for the peace of mind a grateful soul doth always find.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Every birthday celebrates a life because every life is important.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Maybe Christmas is more than a day to receive. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, is a day to believe.

Richelle E. Goodrich

The jack-o-lantern follows me with tapered, glowing eyes.His yellow teeth grin evily. His cackle I despise.But I shall have the final laugh when Halloween is through.This pumpkin king I’ll split in half to make a pie for two.

Richelle E. Goodrich

For every one person who praises you, there are a hundred who would criticize. Heed neither the one nor the hundred. It is your own opinion that truly matters.

Richelle E. Goodrich

The hero isn’t the one who is right, but the one who steps forward to take the blame—deserved or not—and apologize to save a relationship.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Just say “I’m sorry.” It’s not a tongue twister. It does not need repeating multiple times. The phrase is simple and short, easy to articulate. And the last time I checked, it sounded just as good—if not better—in a whisper. So just say it; say “I’m sorry.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Vultures pick the meat clean off a bone. Guilt eats at the marrow, leaving a man hollow.

Richelle E. Goodrich

A pang of guilt, like a blaring siren, should never be ignored.

Richelle E. Goodrich

With a few swift steps, Adrian stood in front of me again. The wall was only a couple inches behind me, and I had nowhere to go. He made no threatening moves, but he did clasp my hands and hold them to his chest while leaning down to me.“No, you will listen. For once, you’re going to hear something that doesn’t fit into your neat, compartmentalized world of order and logic and reason. Because this isn’t reasonable. If you’re terrified, believe me—this scares the hell out of me, too. You asked about Rose? I tried to be a better person for her—but it was to impress her, to get her to want me. But when I’m around you, I want to be better because… well, because it feels right. Because I want to. You make me want to become something greater than myself. I want to excel. You inspire me in every act, every word, every glance. I look at you, and you’re like… like light made into flesh. I said it on Halloween and meant every word: you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth. And you don’t even know it. You have no clue how beautiful you are or how brightly you shine.

Richelle Mead

While you judge me by my outward appearance I am silently doing the same to you, even though there's a ninety-percent chance that in both cases our assumptions are wrong.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Be warned: A person content to sit with you and criticize others will speak critically of you out of earshot.

Richelle E. Goodrich

The fact is, the man who’d begotten me didn’t want me. In his eyes I should never have been born. And perhaps that would’ve been best. As it was, my existence had proven to be nothing more than a nuisance for everyone. I angered my father, brought strife upon my mother, irritated my teachers, and annoyed the other children who were forced to interact with me in school. All by simply being. tWhen you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm.

Richelle E. Goodrich

There are people who are never content, never appeased, forever dissatisfied—who continually look to what escapes them, convincing themselves that if only they could attain that one desire outside of reach they would be happy. It seems almost pointless to give to these people because their eyes immediately shift from the gift to stare miserably at the portion held back. Their wants, demands, expectations, appetites are never satiated, thus they refuse to be happy. And you cannot make them so.

Richelle E. Goodrich

What's the point of changing who you are in order to impress a woman, when your intention is to return to who you were, a person she was never attracted to in the first place?

Richelle E. Goodrich

What were good and evil, really, but stupid categories? Stupid categoriesthat restricted people and punished or rewarded them based on how they responded to their own natures, natures they really didn't have any way to control.

Richelle Mead

Punishing a person for the wrongs of another makes about as much sense as throwing up to enjoy the meal a second time.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Vengeance, retaliation, retribution, revenge are deceitful brothers—vile, beguiling demons promising justifiable compensation to a pained soul for his losses. Yet in truth they craftily fester away all else of worth remaining.

Richelle E. Goodrich

I hate it when storm clouds roll in, heralded by dazzling claps of thunder and lightning that boast an ocean of tears. This majestic performance of bad temper manages to overshadow my pathetic attempts at pouting. No one broods like Mother Nature, hence she steals all the attention I was sulking after.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled.

Richelle E. Goodrich

When you begin to care too much about what everyone else says, your confidence shrinks and you start to feel like insignificant, little Jack in a strange land of intimidating giants. But when you come to realize that opinions are as diverse and plentiful as dried beans, you might reach the conclusion that your own is of the greatest worth. That's when your confidence grows, and soon you find yourself striding like Gandalf the wondrous wizard among common hobbits in the shire. Respecting your own opinion is the magic that transforms both you and your world.

Richelle E. Goodrich

It's okay to be absurd, ridiculous, and downright irrational at times; silliness is sweet syrup that helps us swallow the bitter pills of life.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Face it―nobody cares.But so what? Their apathy doesn't diminish your worth. Learn from it. Make it your job to care for those around you so that they don't feel like nobody cares.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Easter

Richelle E. Goodrich

Why hasn't someone lassoed a few teenagers and had them sit down and write out all the supposed answers they have so we can solve the world's problems already?

Richelle E. Goodrich

The description of Huck’s father grabbed my full attention, and I glanced up at the book in my teacher’s hand as if to double check. My eyes bulged reflexively. Huck’s father was an abusive drunk just like mine. The boy was hopeful that a corpse found near the river was actually his dad, but it turned out not to be. It was spooky how high my hopes rose for the boy, and then sank so utterly low when the body was discovered to be a female in disguise. I should’ve mourned for the woman, but it was the boy I felt bad for.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Smile wide to receive many smiles in return. But if you want a good laugh, smirk like a wicked, little imp and watch the range of expressions you're flashed.

Richelle E. Goodrich

It isn’t always true that a critical end justifies desperate means.

Richelle E. Goodrich

I squinted at the western sky behind Thaddeus, a blood-red smear melting into blackness. Twisting my neck, I glanced the opposite direction. My teeth clenched at a magnified, round moon nearly as scarlet as the portending sunset, its luminous face half masked by hazy cloud cover. Hatred, vengeance, anger……such emotions coursed through my veins in a poisonous concoction that muddied my mind, impelling me to grip my sword tighter and fight with every ounce of strength I possessed against those who threatened my family - my kind. Currently, Thaddeus was behaving as such a threat, using his powers of persuasion to condone human sacrifice for some outrageously perceived good. He wanted an offering for the monsters; a desperate, futile offering of human flesh that would in no way protect the other villagers from being mauled as he promised.

Richelle E. Goodrich

The only thing better than imagining Dimitri carrying me in his arms was imagining him shirtless while carrying me in his arms.

Richelle Mead

There's nothing worse than waiting and not knowing what'll happen to you. Your own imagination can be crueler than any captor.

Richelle Mead

what's your name?"what?" i asked, squinting at the light.your name." I reconized Dr. Olendzki peering over me.you know my name."I want you to tell me."Rose. Rose Hathaway."Do you know your birthday?"Of course I do. Why are you asking me such stupid things? Did you lose my records?"Dr. Olendzki gave an exasperated sigh and walked off, taking the annoying light with her. "I think she's fine,

Richelle Mead

Not into older guys, huh?" asked Adrian once we were alone."You're imagining things," I said. "Clearly, my stunning beauty has clouded your mind.

Richelle Mead

Wow." I hadn't thought Dimitri could be any cooler, but I was wrong. "You beat up your dad. I mean, that's really horrible...what happened. But, wow. You really are a god."He blinked. "What?""Uh, nothing.

Richelle Mead

Roza." His voice had that same wonderful lowness, the same accent . . . itwas all just colder. "You forgot my first lesson: Don’t hesitate.

Richelle Mead

By the way, my name's Rose Hathaway. I'm seventeen years old, training to protect and kill vampires, in love with a completely unsuitable guy, and have a best friend whose weird magic could drive her crazy.Hey, no one said high school was easy.

Richelle Mead

That's pretty hot," he said."Punching me in the eye?""Well, no. Of course not. I meant the idea of getting rough with you is hot. I'm a big fan of full-contact sports.""I'm sure you are.

Richelle Mead

Well he didn't treat my mother very well. He did some horrible things.""Like..." I hesitated. "Blood-whore things?""Like beating-her-up kinds of things" he replied flatly."Oh God," I said "That's horrible. And she...she just let it happen?""She did." The corner of his mouth turned into a sly, sad smile. "But I didn't""Tell me, tell me you beat the crap out of him"His smile grew, "I did.

Richelle Mead

It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. You can let go of the sword.""I can’t. I can’t leave him alone. I have to protect him.""You have.

Richelle Mead

Sweat isn't a bad thing," he said, leaning his head against the wall thoughtfully. "Some of the best things in life happen while your sweating. Yeah, if you get too much of it and it gets old and stale, it turns pretty gross. But on a beautiful women? Intoxicating. If you could smell things like a vampire does, you'd know what I'm talking about. Most people mess it all up and drown themselves in perfume. Perfume can be good...especially if you get one that goes with your chemistry. But you only need a hint. Mix about 20 percent of that with 80 percent of your own perspiration...mmm." He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "Dead sexy.

Richelle Mead

Perhaps, if you weren't so busy regarding my shortcomings, you'd find that I do possess redeeming qualities, discreet as they may be. I notice when the sky is blue. I smile down at children. I laugh at any innocent attempt at humor. I quietly carry the burdens of others as though they were my own. And I say 'I'm sorry' when you don't. I am not without fault, but I am not without goodness either.

Richelle E. Goodrich

Call me crazy for asking this, but, um, are Lissa and I going with you?""No""No?""No.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Quotes - Page 7

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