Becca Fitzpatrick
Becca Fitzpatrick
Becca Fitzpatrickis an American author, best known for having written the New York Times bestseller, Hush, Hush...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth3 February 1979
CountryUnited States of America
stupid differences acting
I’d like to. Problem is, I’m not stupid.” “You act stupid.” “Right. Thanks for that. For your information, there’s a difference between acting stupid and being stupid.” “It’s a fine line, but someone has to draw it.
heart hands want
This isn't over," I said. "After everything we've been through, you don't get the right to brush me off. I'm not letting you off that easily." I wasn't sure if it was a threat, my last stab at defiance, or irrational words spoken straight from my splintered heart. "I want to protect you," Patch said quietly. He stood so close. All strength and heat and silent power. I couldn't escape him, now or ever. He'd always be there, consuming my every thought, my heart locked in his hands. I was drawn to him by forces I couldn't control, let alone escape. "But you didn't.
giving wicked looks
Did they look like anyone we know? For example… a cross between Pippi Longstocking and the Wicked Witch of the West would obviously give us Marcie Millar
men sick news
There was no sign of Jules. “Bad news,” said Elliot. “The man is sick. You’re going to have to settle for me.” “Sick?” Vee demanded. “How sick? What kind of excuse is sick?” “Sick as in it’s coming out both ends.” Vee scrunched her nose. “Too much information.
girl secret bucks
What is it with girls?” Elliot said, splitting a smile between us. “I swear, I’ve never known a girl who could go to the bathroom alone.” He leaned forward and grinned conspiratorially. “Let me in on the secret. Seriously. I’ll pay you five bucks each.” He reached for his back pocket. “Ten, if I can come along and see what the big deal is.
legs killers skirts
I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.
flirting thinking voice
Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm. “Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.
lying nice black
Wow. Nice bike,” I said. Which was a lie. It looked like a glossy black death trap.
hurt arms scream
My arms hurt from how tightly Patch held me. “Now that’s what I call a scream,” he said, grinning at me.
children men youth
men are attracted to beauty because it indicates health and youth—no point mating with a sickly woman who won’t be around to raise the children.
laughter eye thinking
I study her,” Patch said. “I figure out what she’s thinking and feeling. She’s not going to come right out and tell me, which is why I have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold my eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?” Laughter rose in the room. I dropped my hands to my lap. “She’s game,” said Patch, bumping my leg again. Of all things, I blushed.
two chocolate looks
You’ve got food stuck in your teeth,” Vee told Marcie. “In the crack between your two front teeth. Looks like chocolate Ex-Lax …
dream home boys
You’re not going to drive me home?” I asked. A waste of breath, since I knew her answer. “There’s fog.” “Patchy fog.” Vee grinned. “Oh, boy. He is so on your mind. Not that I blame you. Personally, I’m hoping I dream about him tonight.
giving evening enough
Well, well,” he said. “Five days a week isn’t enough of me? Had to give me an evening, too?