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Richelle Mead
“I’m not a warrior or a goddess,” I said at last.

Adrian leaned closer. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re both.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

Richelle Mead
“He’d moved toward me again. His hands released mine and moved to my waist, and I noticed I wasn’t the only one breathing heavily. He pulled me to him, bringing our bodies together. The world was all heat and electricity, thick with tension that was only one spark away from exploding around us. I was balancing on another precipice, which wasn’t easy to do in heels. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and this time I was the one who drew him closer.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

Richelle Mead
“You know," he said, "under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day."

I crossed my arms and sat on the bed. I did so out of simple fatigue, but a moment later, I was struck by what I was doing. This is where Adrian sleeps. I'm touching the covers he's wrapped in every night. What does he wear? Does he wear anything?

I jumped up.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

Richelle Mead
“All the while, my mind reeled with what had happened.
I have a hickey. I let Adrian Ivashkov give me a hickey.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

Richelle Mead
“Adrian Ivashkov wasn’t easy to surprise, but I surprised him then when I brought his mouth toward mine. I kissed him, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. That lasted for, oh, about a second. Then the intensity I’d come to know so well in him returned. He pushed me backward, lifting me so that I sat at the table. The tablecloth bunched up, knocking over some of the glasses. I heard what sounded like a china plate crash against the floor.

Whatever logic and reason I normally possessed had melted away. There was nothing but flesh and fire left, and I wasn’t going to lie to myself—at least not tonight.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

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