Stephenie Meyer
Stephenie Meyer
Stephenie Meyeris an American young-adult fiction writer and film producer, best known for her vampire romance series Twilight. The Twilight novels have gained worldwide recognition and sold over 100 million copies, with translations into 37 different languages. Meyer was the bestselling author of 2008 and 2009 in America, having sold over 29 million books in 2008, and 26.5 million books in 2009. Twilight was the best-selling book of 2008 in US bookstores...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth24 December 1973
CityHartford, CT
CountryUnited States of America
Jacob was hardly in need of any physical protection I could offer. But my arms, pinned beneath Edward's, yearned to reach out to him. To wrap around his big, warm, waist in a silent promise of acceptance and comfort. Edward's shielding arms had become restraints.
Jacob's little smirk became a full-blown grin, and I knew he was picturing Charlie showing up to arrest him. This grin was too bitter, too full of mocking to satisfy me. This wasn't the smile I'd been waiting to see.
He put his cold hands on either side of my face and fixed his golden eyes on mine. "Would you please tell me what you're thinking? Before I go mad?
No one could be still like Edward.
You don’t have anything like this. For crying out loud, you only own one skirt!
You want me to be all doom and gloom, or just shut up?
It felt almost rude to ignore toe pretty white bed, but we just weren’t going to make it that far.
You know when things are bad when you feel guilty for being rude to vampires. Jacob B. Ch.14
I miss you already I don’t need to leave. I can stay. . . . Mmmm.
Inspiration in desperation.
I know you think that I have some kind of perfect, unyielding self-control, but that's not actually the case. - Edward Cullen
Darkness is so predictable.
Funny how it kept hitting me, like each new thing was a surprise. When was I going to stop being surprised?
Some of the memories were not clear---dim human memories, seen through weak eyes and heard through weak ears: the first time I'd seen his face... the way it felt when he'd held me in the meadow... the sound of his voice through the darkness of my faltering consciousness when he'd save me from James... his face as he waited under a canopy of flowers to marry me... every precious moment on the island... his cold hands touching our baby through my skin...