Best 97 quotes of Laura Kreitzer on MyQuotes

It took me several minutes to persuade myself to watch the news. During which time I gave myself a stern talking to. That turned into me considering a local pub that would be the perfect place to drown my sorrows in a barrel of tequila, though after much introspection, I scratched the idea just to avoid needless drunken embarrassment. Then, admittedly, I contemplated pouncing Andrew for another steamy romp session. Despite its proven potency to assuage stress and tension, I decided now was not the time to indulge in explosive sexcapades.

I unlocked the deadbolt and flung the door open, stepping back for Gabby to see exactly who it was. “Hello, Sara,” I greeted. A bubble of laughter escaped Gabby before she could contain it. “Yes, hello ex-girlfriend Sara. And might I add: law-breaker? Who let you out of your cage? Don’t you know Joseph has a restraining order against you?

I wish the Fallen would just come to us for a change.” Ironically, Fallen Angels dropped from the sky and surrounded us. “I wish I had a chocolate cake!” I exclaimed, staring up. No cake appeared, though I did get a few wry glances. Andrew’s body shook with silent laughter while Lucia gave me raised eyebrows. “What? It worked for the Fallen Angels.

Love’s sharp teeth sink into her. She surrenders to his possessive arms. They anchor her to his body and to this strange, new reality. With her ear situated against his chest, she listens to his steady heartbeat. It’s strong and reassuring. Her own is jarring in comparison, a rapid rhythm crashing its way through her.

Maybe the Society was right all along. From the very beginning, that’s what they called her. A time bomb. Tick, tick, tick.

Mmm.” Sebastian moaned. “It’s so delicious.” He laughed then. “It’s not the Poisonous Desert; it’s the Oreo Desert.” He scooped up handfuls of dirt and stones and funneled it into his mouth. He licked his palms, his teeth grinding against rock. “Did the plant scramble his brains?” Firen asked, her lips twitching just a smidgen. “The plant’s poison makes you delusional,” Gabriella informed as Egnatious and Firen yanked Sebastian to his feet. “He’ll probably be a bit Looneyville for a while.

Oh yes. You’ve done a marvelous job of succeeding at failure.

Refusing to listen to him any longer, Julian backs up. “Whenever you realize working together is in Summer’s best interest, come find me, Boy Scout. Until then, I’ll just pretend you don’t exist.” Then he walks away. Gage glares at Julian’s retreating form. His hand scrapes through his hair as he fumes. A guttural roar of rage crawls up his throat, and he kicks the sand. Damn him and his stupid logic. He’s right. And Gage knows he’s right. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Seconds ebb and wane. She’s not afraid of her voice anymore, but she’s not entirely sure she trusts it. She’s seen the damage caused with a single word. Right now, each one is a weapon, a conduit of war, and she won’t just throw them out there all willy-nilly.

She draws back, yet refuses to lose skin contact. Golden light flickers across his face. He is the night, the stars. His soul shines so brightly, she could pour it into a jar, and it’d be as bright as the sun.

She feels him scoot closer, the heat of him radiating off his chest and absorbing into her skin. His legs straddle her from behind, and he places delicate kisses along her shoulder, her back, the very center of her spine. Each time is like an electric current surging through her, soul stirring and lovely.

She reaches into the unknown and claims his hand, clasping it as if he might evaporate into the night. She’s petrified. Not of the monstrosities prowling the island, but of the demon inside herself. The one about to rip apart her heart and mind to attain a selfish freedom. And it might all be a lie, placed there by the Society.

She waits for his reprimand or words of disapproval. He kisses her instead. Hard. Lips demanding, fingers tightening on her chin. He consumes her with this single act.

Shut the front door!” Jenna exclaimed. Andrew disappeared into the foyer, and when he returned, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “The door is shut?

Slowly, he lifts the flashlight. Her shorts are torn and frayed, her shirt ripped from chest to naval, exposing her black bra and dirty stomach. And then he raises the light so it reflects off her face, off the crimson tears streaming from the girl’s eyes. Her boney hands fly up to protect her face, and her head tilts sharply as she hisses.

So if I asked you to wear my skirt and juggle my high heels, you would?” I joked. I could only see Andrew's face in profile, but a grin overtook his earlier grim expression, and he laughed. “I draw the line at wearing women’s clothing.” “Are you sure?” I whispered seductively, nibbling on his earlobe. “That’s cheating,” he said, his breath hitching. I kissed down his neck. “If all else fails, I’ll never rule out using my womanly wiles.” “I refuse to be used as a pawn by my devious lover,” he countered, grinning. I abruptly pulled away from him. “Ah, well, it never hurts to try.

Struggling transforms her captor into a Chinese finger trap. She’s suffocating. Sucking in air without relief. Her lungs expand. Contract. Expand. They fill with lies and broken promises. With despair and lost hope. Each inhale is empty. Invisible hands reach into her body and constrict around her windpipe. She watches her friends collapse like supernovae, their cognizance disappearing into a black hole. A black hole she’s quickly cascading into. The dark consumes, bleeds into her vision. She blinks. Catches icy blue eyes peeking out from the shadows.

Summer turns and marches away, fed up with being handled like a child. Like she’s a glass doll that might break at any minute. She hasn’t been a child since the day she was whipped into muteness. Anxiety might strangle her sometimes, but she’s not some baby needing to be coddled.

Terror builds inside him. The reality that tonight will be his last leaves a sour taste in his mouth. The Tainted will eat him, or on a more terrifying note—if that’s even possible—maybe turn him into one of them. He’d rather die. But first, he’ll take as many of those bastards out as he can. He throws his pack into the throng and jerks the blade from his belt. With a thudding heart, he slices through them. Blood arcs over him, onto him.

That,” she says, then clears her throat. “That’s a bit terrifying.” His lips twitch. “Isn’t that a side effect of love?

The aftermath of bearing shackles is an exquisite devastation, fraught with the ravages of survival. Even though one is no longer held captive—be that from a person, a government, or one’s inner self—the scars are deeply engraved into one’s psyche, and there’s no remedy for the soul. Many have the misconception that freedom equals happiness forever and ever. That’s a wicked delusion.

The Ferryman will transport us across the moat,” Chris informed. “Yeah. This seems legit,” Gabriella quipped as Chris helped her onto the boat. Andrew followed behind. “Are you sure this isn’t a trick?” Egnatious asked. Again, uncertainty filtered into Chris’s blue eyes, but he nodded anyway. “This is the only way.

the forecast for tonight is alcohol, low standards, and poor decisions.

There’s nothing to be scared of, right Akhol?” He said nothing as he stepped toward the rushing water that rolled around a big rock and was swallowed whole by impenetrable darkness. “Right?” Andrew repeated, his voice swallowed by the sound of rushing water. Akhol didn’t respond again. He tapped a foot above the water before he stepped in and disappeared beneath the surface in one fluid motion.

There was an image in my mind—an expectation of what it would be like when I finally gave myself fully to a man. It wasn’t like this. It was always at night with candles flickering lazily, music filling the air with a sexy melody, and maybe a bubble bath. But no. It was infinitely better, and there was no froo froo, stereotypical scene that played out. It was incredible. Brilliant. Amazing. Indescribable, really. Like all the planets in the galaxy aligned for a perfect moment in time. As if this was the beginning of time. From now until the rest of eternity, everything finally had meaning.

The truth, as much as people acted like they wanted to hear it, was sometimes too cruel and harsh.

The woman turns away; one wing blackens like an onyx gem while the other glows white like a bright spotlight. She flies into the sky, leaving the crowd staring in astonishment. Angels fly away in two directions. Half make a black storm of moving, twisting shapes. The other half forms a white-as-snow moving cloud. The ranks are divided.

Time is a thief. A killer. Time is killing him.

Time keeps ticking away, unaware of the suffering each second generates. Time doesn’t care, because if it did, it would’ve reversed.

To have reservations is to show true leadership. To have certainty without question, to lead people to battle with no qualms, or to prosecute without hesitation are qualities of a tyrant.

To see someone you love in so much pain—especially emotional pain that can’t be remedied—was the worst form of torture.

Underwater, bubbles erupted before my eyes as a swift hand snatched my arm and pulled me to the surface. I gasped for air, coughing and gagging at the amount of water I sucked into my lungs by pure shock. What was up with me and breathing in water? I needed to grow some gills or something.

We both must burn this midnight oil together. You’re just as new to me as I am you.” --Andrew

We need the Fallen Legion,” I said without preamble, trying to catch my breath after running after her. “And I need an evil-proof bubble to put Jules in,” Firen said dryly. “That’ll teach me to start off a conversation with a demand,” I grumbled.

We want to fight.” “And I want J.K. Rowling to keep writing in the Potterverse, but I know that’s never going to happen,” I said blithely.

What are you doing?” Egnatious asked, eyebrows furrowed as he watched Gabriella do a flip. Firen mimicked Gabriella and turned to Egnatious. “Fun times. Go with it.” She didn’t even crack a smile, though her body language said she was laughing on the inside. Instead of following their act, Egnatious simply dove for an outcrop just as it began moving away. He nearly lost his balance, but Firen caught his flailing arms. “Are you having a seizure or something?” she jested, displaying a rare vein of humor. Egnatious sent her a queasy glare.

What’s with savage humans always wanting to cannibalize us?” Jaden asks as she runs past Summer to check for any more of the Tainted around the corner. “They want to suck your blood,” Rob says in a Romanian accent. Jaden snorts. Too bad humor won’t help them out of this mess.

What was that?” I croaked. Akhol sidestepped into my view and towered over us. “It was a Demon.” “But you said—” “I know what I said,” Akhol cut in sharply, rubbing his eyes. “There was something wrong with it. Like the Demon had adapted to the darkness and water.” I shivered. “Did he have a ring that he called ‘my precious’?” I joked to try and lighten the mood. I didn’t get a good look at the Demon, but my mind had no problems picturing Gollum. They stared at me blankly.

What would you suggest?” one of the Italian officials asked. “We do have a highly-advanced biological device called the Illuminator,” Joseph chimed in

When I see your scars, do I want to erase them? Absolutely. But not your physical scars. The real ones, beneath the surface. The ones that compel you to stay silent or force you to cringe. Those are the scars I want to obliterate.” His finger circles the dip of a burn mark on her forearm. “This is a battle trophy and nothing to be ashamed of. Every one of your scars makes you more beautiful to me.

When the nurse leaves, Doctor Rose mouths, “Act like you’re in pain.” Then she mimics a painful expression in case Summer doesn’t understand. On the contrary, Summer’s an expert at interpreting body language and reading lips. It’s all thanks to her observant nature while enslaved on the Cosmos. Who else could tell that Peter’s discomfort is due to him wearing the same pair of underwear for a week straight? Ah, yes, she always knew when day six and seven approached. She watched the crew member with much amusement as he waddled, pulled wedgies, and scratched his bum relentlessly. Not that anyone else cared to know that little nugget of information.

Where are you taking me?” Andrew demanded, whirling on the Ferryman. His muscles tensed, hands curling in and out of fists. “To my master.” The voice was ghostly, whispers of black ash and death, words cold and detached. He had an idea who that was but asked anyway: “And who is your master?” No answer came. Andrew’s insatiable rage rose up and swallowed his grief like a yawning ocean mouth, the darkest depths surging to the surface to form a mighty tidal wave. He closed the distance and seized the Ferryman’s gaunt wrist. There was no substance, no life beneath the cloak. The Ferryman slowly turned his hooded head, and Andrew found himself looking into the black hole of a self-contained night. The olfactory of decay was a punch in the face. Andrew released the Ferryman’s wrist and hastily stepped back, rocking the boat as he put distance between him and the unnatural wind spilling from the gaping orifice. Andrew shivered, the tiny hairs on his neck saluting. The cloaked head faced forward again, and the wind died away.

Why aren’t you smiling?” Cameron asks. She picks up the Astropad and stops the video. “Because this is the beginning, not the end.

Why won’t you look at me?” she murmurs. He doesn’t speak, seemingly at a loss for words. “It’s my scars.” It comes out as barely a whisper. Horror spasms across his face. “What? No,” he says, a bit breathless. “You’re beautiful. All of you.

You didn’t tell Summer about it, did you?” “What?” Gage scoffs. “Yeah, telling your girlfriend the Angel of Death might visit her if some switch is flipped is normal pillow talk.

Your hair is like butterflies,” Sebastian said, giggling like a child. “That’s nice,” Firen said impatiently. “Keep moving.” “Fantastic. I always like my days better with a touch of insanity,” Gabriella quipped.

You should’ve told me,” she repeats. “Because here’s a news flash: You might’ve wanted to shelter me, but there’s nowhere you can hide me that’ll keep me safe from what’s inside my head.