James Patterson
James Patterson
James Brendan Pattersonis an American author. He is largely known for his novels about fictional psychologist Alex Cross, the protagonist of the Alex Cross series. Patterson also wrote the Michael Bennett, Women's Murder Club, Maximum Ride, Daniel X, and Witch and Wizard series, as well as many stand-alone thrillers, non-fiction and romance novels. His books have sold more than 300 million copies and he holds the Guinness World Record for being the first person to sell 1 million e-books...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth22 March 1947
CityNewburgh, NY
CountryUnited States of America
I choose you, Max. -Fang
No one looks like Fang-dark and still and dangerous, like he's daring you to set him off. But I'd seen him rocking Angel when she'd hurt herself; I'd seen him smile in his sleep; I'd seen the deep, darkl ight in his eyes as he leaned over me... ~Max; "Max"; page 24
Now, Max, I think we both know your parents aren't missionaries." I opened my eyes wide. "No? Well, for God's sake, don't tell them. They'd be crushed. Thinking they're doing the Lord's work and all.
Beware the anger of a patient man.
While carefully synchronizing our wings-they almost touched-Fang leaned in,gently put one hand behind my neck and kissed me.It was just about close to heaven i'll ever get,I guess.I closed my eyes,lost in the feeling of flying and kissing and being with the one person in the world I completely ,utterly trusted.
Sighing, she gave a brief nod. “I was supposed to win. I was supposed to finish you off. They never counted on you winning. And then you didn’t kill me. It was awful.” “You’re welcome,” I said, feeling fresh anger ignite. “I’ll try not to humiliate you by letting you live next time.” (Max II to Max)
What are you doing here?” [ndr prison] Selling Girl Scout cookies,” I said. “Want some? The Samoas are terrific.” (Max II to Max)
He [Iggy] started reaching for things around the table, and his hand landed on Total. “You’re black.” “I prefer canine-American,” said Total.
Fang: "Have you guys been playing in the toxic waste again? Been bitten by a radioactive spider? Struck by lightning? Drink a super-soldier serum?
Is dere anysing special about you? Anysing vorth saving?" Besides my fashion sense? I play a mean harmonica.
Ultimately, a great thriller is a roller coaster ride. I like to think that's a promise I have never failed to keep, and one that I'd say has served my books well.
You...are...a...fridge...with wings,' Fang ground out, punching an Eraser hard with every word. 'We're...freaking...ballet...dancers.
Don’t ever leave me again,” I said in a tiny voice. I won’t,” he promised into my hair, sounding most un-Fang-like. “I won’t. Not ever.” And just like that, a cold shard of ice that had been inside my chest ever since we’d split up-well, it just disappeared. I felt myself relax for the first time in I don’t known how long. The wind was chilly, but the sun was bright, and my whole flock was together. Fang and I were together. Excuse me? I’m alive too.” Iggy’s plaintive voice made me pull back.
Fang felt a cold jolt, then dismissed it. Max wasn’t dead. He would know, somehow. He would have felt it. The world still felt the same to him; therefore, Max was still in it.