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
dad hands black
This ring belongs to the black hand. He killed your dad.
eye hands trying
Ready?" Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles. "Ready to wrestle with my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that." Amusement softened his eyes. "I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen?" I added. Patch grinned. "Sounds promising.
hands knives secret
First,” he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, “choose your tomato.” He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “Good. Now pick up the knife.” “Does the chef always stand this close?” I asked, not sure if I liked or feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me. “When he’s revealing culinary secrets, yes.
lying fall hands
My legs are falling asleep,” I blurted. It wasn’t a total lie. I was experiencing tingling sensations all through my body, legs included. “I could solve that.” Patch’s hands closed on my hips.
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.
angel hands thumbs
Hang on, did you just call me Angel?” I asked. “If I did?” “I don’t like it.” He grinned. “It stays. Angel.” He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late.
hands firsts break
I didn’t break his jaw, but if he lays a hand on you, it will be the first of many things to break,” Patch said.
eye hands mouths
You didn’t tell me she was so soft on the eyes,” he said to Patch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He spoke with a heavy Irish accent. “I didn’t tell her how hard you are on them either,” Patch returned, his mouth at the relaxed stage just before a grin.
nice garbage-disposal hands
Gosh, it was nice talking to you, but I’ve got a lot of things I’d rather be doing. Like sticking my hand in the garbage disposal.
sacrifice hands healthy
Religion?” I asked more firmly. Patch dragged a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. “Not religion … cult.” “You belong to a cult?” I realized too late that while I sounded surprised, I shouldn’t have. “As it turns out, I’m in need of a healthy female sacrifice. I’d planned on luring her into trusting me first, but if you’re ready now …
past hard-times hands
I nibbled my lower lip. "If you could see into my past just by touching my back, you'd have a hard time resisting the temptation too." "I have a hard time keeping my hands off you without that added bonus.
hands saws hips
Don’t start. I saw Marcie climb inside your Jeep.” “She needed a ride.” I adopted a hands-on-hips pose. “What kind of ride?” “Not that kind of ride,” he said slowly.
ego handsome monsters
Busted. I'm a monster. Jev is my deceptively harmless-and shockingly handsome-alter ego.
hands doors needs
Are you defending Marcie?” He shook his head. “I don’t need to. She handled herself. You, on the other hand…” I pointed at the door. “Out.