Lissa and I had been best friends ever since kindergarden, when our teacher had paired us together for writing lessons. Forcing five-year-olds to spell "Vasilisa Dragomir" and "Rosemarie Hathaway" was beyond cruel and we'd -or rather, I'd- responded appropriately. I'd chucked my book at our teacher and called her a fascist bastard. I hadn't known what those words meant, but I'd known how to hit a moving target.
Richelle MeadTags: rose-hathaway lissa-dragomir
Rose, nothing in this world could make me hate you."
"Not even trying to bring my ex-boyfriend back from the dead?
Tags: rose-hathaway adrian-ivashkov
I hate it when you're the sane one. That's my job.
Richelle MeadTags: rose-hathaway
I was no better at reading people than I had been ten seconds ago, but in that moment, I suddenly gained a flash of understanding into the mystery that was Adrian Ivashkov. People didn’t believe in him very often. They had low expectations of him, so he did as well.
Richelle MeadTags: bloodlines-series
I also suddenly realized that, as unlikely as it seemed, Adrian and I had a lot in common. Both of us were constantly boxed in by others’ expectations. It didn’t matter that people expected everything of me and nothing of him. We were still the same, both of us constantly trying to break out of the lines that others had defined for us and be our own person. Adrian Ivashkov—flippant, vampire party boy—was more like me than anyone else I knew.
Richelle MeadTags: richelle-mead bloodlines
I Had A Black Eye. A Freaking Black Eye. And My Mother Have Given It To Me.
Richelle MeadDid you follow me from the party?"
"Yes"
"I didn't even know you were there." His dark clothes indicated he must have been on guardian duty at the party. "So you saw the illustrious Janine cause a commotion by dragging me out."
"It wasn't a commotion. Hardly anyone noticed. I saw because I was watching you.
Tags: rose-hathaway frostbite dimitri-belikov
Dimitri seemed like the kind of guy you could throw into the wilderness and he would survive off anything.
Richelle MeadTags: rose-hathaway
His fingers never ceased to amaze me. They could break a man's neck, bandage a wound, and slide sensually across bare skin.
Richelle MeadTags: rose-hathaway dimitri-belikov
Halfway down, Eric stopped and stared at her, an awestruck look in his eyes. “What is it?” she asked.
“Your hair. Even in moonlight . . . it looks like sunshine. I’d never have to go outside again if I was with you.”
She tugged him forward. “I think you hit your head in your heroic struggles.”
“You were the heroic one,” Eric said, stepping around a rock bend. “Reminds me of the stories from Russia my grandmother used to tell me. You know any of them? Vasilisa the Brave?”
“Nope. My family’s from Romania. Never heard of any Vasilisa.” Looking up, Rhea stare up at the sky thoughtfully. “But I kind of like that name.
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