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Quote by Becca Fitzpatrick

“I took three steps back; he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked. “I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house! “Tacos?” “Tacos?” I echoed. This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.” “I know what a taco is!”

Quote by Becca Fitzpatrick

Work

Hush, Hush

In 'Hush, Hush,' readers are drawn into a world where romance meets the supernatural. The story revolves around a young girl who discovers that her new neighbor is a fallen angel, and their lives become intertwined in a complex web of love, danger, and secrets. more

Author

Becca Fitzpatrick
Becca Fitzpatrick

Becca Fitzpatrick is an American author known for her young adult literature. Born on February 3, 1979, she graduated from the University of California, Los Angeles. Her works are celebrated for their rich imagination and emotional depth, appealing to a wide audience of young readers. more

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“It’s brown.” So maybe I had the teeniest, tiniest, most infinitesimal amount of auburn in my hair. I was still a brunette. “It’s the lighting,” I said. “Yeah, maybe it’s the lightbulbs.” His smile brought up both sides of his mouth, and a dimple surfaced.”

“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.”

“Cooking isn’t taught,” Patch said. “It’s inherent. Either you’ve got it or you don’t. Like chemistry. You think you’re ready for chemistry?” I pressed the knife down through the tomato; it split in two, each half rocking gently on the cutting board. “You tell me. Am I ready for chemistry?” Patch made a deep sound I couldn’t decipher and grinned.”

“You never cared that I was your sister before.” “Didn’t I?” His black eyes flicked up and down her. “Our father’s dead,” he said. “There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance.”