She kept the wish to herself, as she should have, and simply blew out the candle.I clapped and whistled and then dove into my own cupcake, dying to know how my creations tasted. And seeing as I’d done the hard work—frosting and decorating—I felt like I could take credit and call them my creations. All Cassie had done was get the ingredients, come up with the recipe, and do all the measuring and mixing.

— Richelle Mead

Do you really want him to get over you?

— Richelle Mead

She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache.

— Richelle Mead

I told her if she really cared about me, then she’d let me do whatever I wanted for my birthday, just like Mom did when I was twelve.”“What happened when you were twelve?”“Oh, Mom offered to take us all out for dinner—us girls, Dad was out of town—to celebrate, but I didn’t want to. This book I’d been waiting for had just come out, and the only thing I wanted to do was read it all night.”“My God,” I said, touching the top of her nose. “You’re adorable.”She swatted me away. “Anyway, Carly and Zoe really wanted to go out so that they could score a meal, but Mom just said, ‘It’s her birthday. Let her do whatever she wants.’”“Your mom is cool.

— Richelle Mead

It’s a tricky art, working with them in their purest form,” she mused. “Simultaneously simple yet infinitely complex.” It sounded like my relationship with Adrian.

— Richelle Mead