Catrina Hamid

“He has no right to threaten my boyfriends. I'm eighteen. An adult. I don't need his help. I can threaten my boyfriends myself.”
― Richelle Mead, Spirit Bound

“I decided to deflect her attitude by giving a long, Southern answer. I come from people who know how to draw things out. Annoy a Southerner, and we will drain away the moments of your life with our slow, detailed replies until you are nothing but a husk of your former self and that much closer to death.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Name of the Star

“Okay, God, I thought. Get me out of this and I’ll stop my half-assed church-going ways. You got me past a pack of Strigoi tonight. I mean, trapping that one between the doors really shouldn't have worked, so clearly you're on board. Let me get out of here, and I’ll...I don’t know. Donate Adrian’s money to the poor. Get baptized. Join a convent. Well, no. Not that last one.”
― Richelle Mead, Blood Promise

“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