Olga D.

“You know what would help?" I asked, not meeting his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"If you turned off this crap music and put on something that came out after the Berlin Wall went down."

Dimitri laughted. "Your worst class is history, yet somehow, you know everything about Eastern Europe."

"Hey, gotta have material for my jokes, Comrade." Still smiling, he turned the radio dail. To a country station.

"Hey! This isn't what I had in mind," I exclaimed. I could tell he was on the verge of laughing again.

"Pick. It's one or the other."

I sighed. "Go back to the 1980s stuff."

He flipped the dail, and I crossed my arms over my chest as some vaguely European-sounding band sang about how video had killed the radio star. I wished someone would kill this radio.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“Rose? Is that you?" I peered behind him. Lissa. "What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" She asked
"Ladies, ladies" he said teasingly. "No need to fight over me."
I glared. "We're not.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“You can't force love, I realized. It's there or it isn't. If it's not there, you've got to be able to admit it. If it is there, you've got to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite

“I steeled myself for the next response. I knew it was going to be one of the Zen life lessons. [...]
Instead he kissed me.”
― Richelle Mead, Frostbite