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
Boy, you just can't kill people like you used to,
Ari felt like, Hellooo, I have wings! I turn into a wolf! Blending is out is out of the question!
i like james patterson
Is that clear?" said Borcht "as clear as pea soup" I said
Time to die. -Evil Angel
He grinned at me so unexpectedly I forgot to flap for a second and dropped several feet."You looove me," he crooned smugly holding his arms out wide, he added,"You love me this much.
This is not a democracy," I said, understanding he fear but unable to do anything about it. "It's a Maxocracy.
I want my room to smell just like this." Iggy inhaled deeply as the scents flame-broiled burgers and hot french fries wafted around us. 'it would be an improvement.' I agreed.
Don’t be afraid.” “I hear voices,” Iggy said. “Be very afraid.
I moved to leave, and Dylan actually grabbed me by my shoulders. I was so surprised that I forgot to karate-chop his elbows and break his arms.
They're afraid of change, and we must change. They're afraid of the young, and we are the young. They're afraid of music, and music is our life. They're afraid of books, and knowledge, and ideas. They're most afraid of our magic.
Life is hard, and a lot of people come home tired from work. If they're gonna spend half an hour reading, they want some entertainment and a sense of achievement. So that's what I give them. That's all I'm trying to do. Is that really so wrong?
Unfortunately, every time someone said “debriefing,” the entire flock had one image: someone’s tighty-whities disappearing in a flash. We were smothering our giggles, but it was getting harder. Coupled with the whole “naval this, and naval that,” with its undeniable belly-button connotations, we were essentially turning into a sugar-jacked, sleep-deprived flock of incoherent, silly, recombinant-DNA goofballs. This was not going to end well.
Being the leader means you have to make life or death decisions sometimes.