Amy Plum Quotes

He smelled like oak and grass and wood fires.He Smelled like memories. Like years and years of memories.

Stop flaunting your impeccable language skills, Vincent, help the girl to her feet and let her take her leave

Gaspard eyed me cautiously. "I really can't say," he responded in his formal nineteenth-century style. Can't, or won't? I thought.

Okay, Kate, first of all, you're touching me," Vincent said for the room to hear. "So I'm not a ghost."
"And we're not true zombies," Charles said with a grin, "or he would have already eaten your face off.

So I figured I might as well see if I could find something Gaspard didnt already know about. Like an herb or potion or something."
"Hmm," said Georgia, looking off into some invisible dreamworld. "Or maybe bathing naked in the Seine under the light of a full moon"- she glanced up quickly- "in which case, definitely tell me when and where your voodoo's going down!

Their poses are all different but the face is the same. Painted from memory in scene after scene is the fresh-faced beauty. Kate.
It's the bargain I've made with myself. If I can't caress her body with my hands, I paint it with my brushes. Use my fingers to trace her lines.

Bearing my mother's face was a daily reminder that I could be as strong as she had been. And fighting for what I wanted most in life was the best way to keep her alive in my heart.

A few Paris blocks away I led a completely normal life with my sister & grandparents. And here I was sword fighting with dead guys.

He leaned forward and opened his door, politely standing aside to let me by before following me in. There are some advantages to dating a guy from another era, I thought. Though I am a big believer in gender equality, chivalry scores high in my book.

Our lips brushed,and I felt like a chord had been struck inside me, and my body was humming with a pure musical note.

Life is easier in black and white. It's the ambiguity of a world defined in grays that has stripped me of my confidence and left me powerless.

Lucky man,"Jules said to me, leaning over to kiss my cheeks. "What I wouldn't give to be in your head." Instead of the usual quick air-kisses, he took his time kissing both of my cheeks tenderly. "Jules!" I gasped, feeling myself blush. He stood, looking up in space, and raised both arms as if in surrender. "Okay, okay, man. Hands off, I get it! But it's not often we get a young pretty human in the house. in fact, it's never.

Don't you see Kate? I can't be yours in any kind of real way. But what I can promise you is that I will always be here for you, watching out for you, making sure you are safe. And happy.

You told me this wasn't a formal date when you invited me to come. Why should I care if you have a girlfriend?"
"Absolutely," he said, giving me a fake-serious look. "Yeah, you and I are just friends ... out for a friendly walk. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Exactly!" I agreed, my heart giving a painful twist.
He broke into a large grin and, leaning over, kissed me on the cheek. "Kate," he whispered, "you are way too gullible.

Vincent gestures toward Gaspard, who steps forward to face us. "We say good-bye to our longtime leader, Jean-Baptiste Alexandre Balthazar Grimod de la Reynière," Gaspard says in a wavering voice. "He died sacrificing his life for another on the battlefield in Borodino, September 7, 1812. Jean-Baptiste was dedicated to the preservation of his kindred, willing to do anything to ensure their survival." Gaspard's face twists with emotion when he says this, but he forces his shoulders back and raises his chin.
He pulls something from his belt, and I recognize Jean-Baptiste's beloved sword-cane topped with its carved wooden falcon's head. Facing the fire, Gaspard says, "My dear Jean-Baptiste. My love. I will mourn your loss until we are reunited in the next life." And he throws the cane onto the fire.

She is my inspiration. My muse. My obsession.

Those are pretty," She commented, leaning down to smell the flowers.
"They're from Violette," I said, watching for her reaction.
"They look like weeds," she replied, straightening.

He nodded. "That would work. It's a date. So ... I'm meeting the grandparents? What should I wear?" he teased me. "As long as you're not wearing a body bag, I should think you'll do just fine," I laughed, turning back to his collection of portraits.

I'm lying here in a tent, pretending to be asleep but actually fearing for my life as I watch a bunny murderer have a conversation with our campfire.

Natural talent!" crowed Vincent, sweeping my sweaty self up into his arms and pacing across the room, holding me like a trophy. "Of course my girlfriend's got it. In truckloads! How else could she have slain a giant evil zombie, single-handedly saving my undead body?

Ambrose's eyes shoot back to Charlotte and he nods. "She's changed, hasn't she? Charlotte, I mean."
"Um, besides growing her hair long she doesn't seem to have changed much to me," I say, trying not to smile. "Why?"
"It's just that she seems so ... in charge. I mean, she's always had her act together, but ever since she's been back she's seemed more confident or something. And now that she's Vincent's second ... I guess I've always thought of her as a little sister. You know, the huggable kind you want to take care of. But now that I see her working with him and taking control ... I mean ... the girl is fierce."
Ambrose's face shines with respect and a sort of curious awe, and I have to restrain myself from jumping up and cheering for the fact that it has finally happened. He has finally noticed what was right under his nose.

Kate: "Oh, please, Vincent. We're in the middle of a major tourist site. Père Lachaise cemetary is practically Disneyland for the Dead. It's not some Buffy soundstage with vampires rising out of the ground every time someone turns around.

Personally, I'm happy I haven't run into a murderous killer since, well ... since you chopped my ex's head off with a sword.

Watching the way he treats you made me realize that maybe I had set my sights too low. After chasing someone who didn't give me the time of day ... I just see how Vincent anticipates your every desire and tries to make it come true for you. How, when he sees you walk into a room, it's like he's transformed into this person who is bigger and better than the one he was just minutes before. I want to be that for someone. I think I deserve it. And I'm not going to pine away for a guy who feels that for someone else. So until my own chivalrous knight shows up, I've decided to live a full life and be happy with my lot.

I was now in slasher-film mode.

That's what happens when people get too serious. Feelings get hurt. Hearts get broken. Some people never learn. Don't get serious. It's my number one rule.

The American School of Paris is one of those strange places in foreign cities where expatriates huddle together in a defensive circle and try to pretend they're still back at home.
I saw it as a place for lost souls.

Kate, I admit that we aren't in the easiest of situations. But are you always this ... complicated?"
I opened my mouth to say something, but Vincent shook his head, grinning. "Actually, don't answer that. Of course you are. I wouldn't be so totally into you if you weren't.

Still in one piece?" Vincent teased, pulling me close & planting a soft kiss on my lips. "After dirty-dancing with Jules, I'm not sure.

I can't promise you an ordinary experience, Kate. I wish I could transform myself into a normal man and be there for you, always, without the trauma that defines my life as "the walking dead." Since that isn't possible, I can only reassure you that I will do everything in my power to make it up to you. To give you more than a normal boyfriend could.
I have no idea what that will mean, exactly, but I'm looking forward to finding out. With you.

I know what's coming next. I look at Giulianna's expertly made-up face, sink into her catlike beauty, and then close my eyes and I'm kissing Kate. I don't even try to stop it anymore-this happens every time. With every girl.

He interrupts her again. "I will stay without complaining ... "
"You have no choice!"
" ... if you'll do two things." The teasing has long left his face. He is dead serious.
I should leave but I can't. I know I'm about to witness a historic event, and I lurk next to the door, my eyes glued to Charlotte and Ambrose.
"Okay," Charlotte says, matching his gravity.
"Promise me you'll come back."
Charlotte is silent.
"And give me a kiss good-bye."
"What?" Charlotte blurts.
"You heard me."
She stands stock-still for a good couple of seconds before raising her fingertips to her mouth. Her eyes glitter with tears as she sits back down on the side of his bed. And taking his good hand in hers, she leans forward and kisses him. It is a slow kiss. It is a lingering kiss. It's the kiss she's been waiting for for years.

At lunch I turned my phone on to check my messages. Georgia always sent me a few inane texts during the day, and sure enough there were two messages from her: one complaining about her physics teacher and a second, also obviously sent from her phone: I love you, baby. V.
I wrote her back: I thought I told you to buzz off last night, you creep-o French stalker guy.
Her response came back immediately: As if! Your beet-red cheeks this morning suggest otherwise ... liar! You're so into him.
I groaned and was about to turn my phone off when I saw that there was a third text from UNKNOWN. Clicking on it, I read: Can I pick you up from school? Same place, same time?
I texted back: How'd you get my number?
Called myself from your phone while you were in the restaurant's bathroom last night. Warned you we were stalkers!

Mon Kate, qui était à moi, qui n'est plus à moi," he whispers as he kisses me. And then he says it in English. "My Kate, who was mine, who is no longer mine" -- he tiredly rubs his bloodshot eyes -- " because now you belong to fate.

Arthur is very obviously checking Louis out. "What?" Louis asks finally. "So you're Violette's new consort," the older revenant says, amused. "You're with her for six months and you want to run away? Try five hundred years." Louis's jaw drops.

I'm not happy. Nor am I sad. I'm just...here.

And I've got THIS," I pulled out the signum and held it up for him to see, "that says I'm kindred. And I've got THIS," I pointed at my head, "that says I'm as smart as you. And I have THIS," I held up my middle finger, "that says go to hell, you immortal bigot."
And with that I spun around and stomped out the door, filing the expression on Arthur's face in a mental folder labeled "Kate's Proudest Moments".

I have to warn you that my bedroom isn't the best place to stage an assault on me. It's where I'm at my weakest, with my bed a mere twenty feet away.

You beautiful girl. You've given new life to my Vincent. He might be strong of spirit, but he's a tender soul.
And you've touched him. For as long as I've known him, his only motivation has been vengeance and loyalty,
which may be why he's one of the few survivors. But now he has ... " She paused, thinking twice abiout what
she was going to say, and settled for, "You.

I'm falling for Kate. How could I? My best friend is in love with her. And she with him. You must never let them know - the words sizzle through my mind, and I feel like I am bleeding internally.

I introduce the two girls. Kate leans over and whispers, "She's gorgeous!" And I respond with the truth: "She has nothing on you, of course, Kates. It's just that you are so very... taken.

I squeeze her and she laughs and looks up at me, "Jules, you incorrigible rake," she scolds, and then gives me a smile that makes me feel we're in zero gravity. Floating inches above the floor. weightless and timeless, and I wish this song would last forever.

I went to the only thing that I know it'll make me feel good. To another woman's arms.

I'm not always the best at expressing myself to you, so I'm taking advantage of the fact that I will be completely unresponsive when you read this, and therefore incapable of messing things up

Doubt everything [ ... ]. Doubt everything at least once. What you decide to keep, you'll be able to be confident of. And what you decide to ditch, you will replace with what your instincts tell you is true.

Kate,


I'm not always the best at expressing myself to you, so I'm taking advantage of the fact that I will be completely unresponsive when you read this, and therefore incapable of messing things up.



I want to thank you for giving me a chance. When I first saw you, I knew I had found something incredible. And since then all I've wanted was to be with you as much as possible.



When I thought I had lost you, I was torn between wanting you back and wanting the best for you - wanting you to be happy. Seeing you so miserable during the weeks we were apart gave me the courage to fight for us . . . to find a way for things to work. And seeing you happy again in the days we've been back together makes me think I did the right thing.



I can't promise you an ordinary experience, Kate. I wish I could transform myself into a normal man and be there for you, always, without the trauma that defines my life as "the walking dead." Since that isn't possible, I can only reassure you that I will do everything in my power to make it up to you. To give you more than a normal boyfriend could. I have no idea what that will mean, exactly, but I'm looking forward to finding out. With you.



Thank you for being here, my beauty. Mon ange. My Kate.

Yours utterly,

Vincent

She leaves an empty hole behind her. There was this feeling of optimism and joy in the house when she was around that's now turned into void. Like Vincent, I feel hollow. Sad. And as the days pass, I begin to realize I've grown to care for Kate. Not as my best friend's girlfriend, but as someone in and of herself. And I realize I miss her.

So is this a habit of yours, leaving your bag behind in order te strike up a conversation?" He grinned and nodded at the bench where I had been sitting. Lying beneath it was my book bag. "Wouldn't it be easier to just walk up to a guy and say hello?

My pulse sped up as I opened our front door and stood in the hallway waiting for him. He was up the three flights of stairs in no time, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag in the other. "These are for your Mamie," he said, leaning over to give me a quick, soft kiss on the lips. The pounding of my heart went into overdrive. Vincent lifted his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you going to ask me in, or were you testing to see if I could cross your threshold without the invitation?" Then he whispered , "I'm a revenant , not a vampire, chérie.

What's better, I thought, to be safe and suffer alone, or to risk pain and actually live?

Saturday, three o'clock, I confirmed as he turned and walked away. I don't think it would be exaggerating much to say that my feet didn't touch the ground the whole way home.

Um, yeah. I guess lying around reading books all day doesn't do much for physical endurance.

Vincent to Kate: The day I stop seeing you as one of the strongest people I know is the day I wake up human.

But now I have something that blows that feeling out of the water. Every time I need a hit of joy, I think about you. You are my solace, Kate. Just knowing that you are in this world, everything makes sense. p. 275 Until I Die (ARC)

How about I take you to my studio? Much less dangerous. Plus, I need a model and you could sit for me."
"You want me to sit for a portrait?" I asked stunned.
"Actually, at the moment I'm concentrating on full-length nudes, in the spirit of Modigliani," Jules said. He was making an effort to keep a straight face. "Just kidding, Kates. You're a lady."
Jules was trying the guilt-trip method of attack. And it was working.
"Ok I'll pose for you," I conceded. "But under no circumstances will any article of clothing leave my body whilst I am in your studio."
"And if you're elsewhere?" he asked, breaking into a sly smile.
I rolled my eyes.

It hadn't escaped my attention that I preferred to spend time with the undead rather than the living. I tried not to think about what that said about me.

We stood in the graveyard, among the tombstones, forty-some dead people and me. A couple of my fellow funeral-goers had even been in their own coffins, deep under several feet of French soil.

As he spoke, the edges of the clay man began shimmering, like air does in intense heat, and the lumpen form gradually became more manlike. "Something's happening!" I cried. I was paralyzed by shock and hope. "Please let it work. Come back, Vincent. You have to come back, I whispered, pleading.
Red clay became olive-toned skin, and the bald head became waves of raven black hair. The face that Jules had carefully sculpted became a real nose and mouth and eyes, closed as if in sleep. But it lay there, still unmoving, until, focusing on the air just above, Bran yelled, "Come, bardia spirit, inhabit this body!" He made one final sweeping gesture, as if pulling the aura downward, and touching his fingers to the body's side.
The eyes flew open and Vincent took a great gulping gasp, as if trying to swallow all of the oxygen in the room.
"Vincent," I said, my heart in my throat.
His eyes flew to mine. He reached toward me, and I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek. His skin was burning hot, like with a fever. I kissed his fingers, and his skin smelled like fire and rain-soaked earth. Like the boy I thought I would never touch again.

Well? What could I say?
I said, Yes

I saw a picture of you and Vincent in a 1968 newspaper that said you died in a fire," I said, turning to Ambrose.
He nodded at me with a little smile, urging me on.
"So how can you be here now?"
"Well, I'm glad we're starting with the easy questions," he said, stretching his powerful arms and then leaning toward me. "The answer would be ... because we're zombies!" and he let out a horrible groan, stretching his mouth open and baring his teeth as he curled his hands into claws.
Seeing my terrified expression, Ambrose began cracking up and slapping his knee with his hand. "Just kidding," he cackled, and then, calming down, looked at me sedately. "But no, seriously. We're zombies."
"We are not zombies!" said Charlotte, her voice rising with annoyance.

As I reach the grand foyer, I see Jean-Baptiste and Gaspard step through the front door.
"You're here!" I cry.
"I had planned on taking a couple more hours to rest up," Gaspard explains with a grin, "however, we received this almost indecipherable text message on our mobile telephone ... "
Jean-Baptiste holds up his cell phone like it's a piece of alien machinery. "And I quote, 'Dudes, it's going down now. Get your sorry asses over here stat.' With such an eloquent request, how could we resist?" he remarks drily. But there is a ghost of a smile at the edge of his lips, and I know that he and Gaspard wouldn't miss this for anything in the world.

I may just have one or two of your favorite films waiting downstairs for you. We could even order some pizza and dine in style. Is it a date?"

"A real date! I accept!" I almost squealed, and then, trying to dampen my enthusiasm, continued, "Only since you claim you'll be such boring company, of course. Otherwise I'd be fine just sitting here, staring into your eyes all night."

Vincent paused, looking at me suspiciously for a second, and then, grinning, asked, "Sarcasm?"

"Yes," I laughed. "You're pretty quick for an old guy."

"Damn, and I thought I had finally found a true romantic,"

Yeah, right, like Catherine Deneuve has her own hot-guy SWAT team trolling the neighborhood for celebrity stalkers with swords - Kate (Die For Me)

When working with an unknown situation, you have to identify known factors and work within their boundaries.

I want to be someone she respects. Admires. But in order for that to happen, I'm going to have to change. To become stronger. As strong as her.

Must you insist on walking around the house naked, Jules? It makes me feel like I'm living in some kind of sordid fraternity house."
"I'm not naked." I say, pointing to the towel around my waist.
"A towel does not count as clothing," Gaspard chides.
"Whatever you say," I respond, and, yanking off the towel, drape it over my shoulders like a scarf.
Gaspard shakes his head mournfully and wanders off toward the kitchen, mumbling, "I am living with cretins.

Besides the alternate universe offered by a book, the quiet space of a museum was my favorite place to go. My mom said I was an escapist at heart ... that I preferred imaginary worlds to the real one. It's true that I've always been able to yank myself out of this world and plunge myself into another.

Are you saying that you like me, Jules Marchenoir?"
"I am saying that I like you very much indeed, Ava Whitefoot.

Kate, I'll say it like this. Vincent is my best friend. There's not a person in this world I'm closer to. But for the past year, I have betrayed him in my heart every single day because I want for myself what he loves the very most.

So you're making demands, are you? Well, let's hear them."
"I want unlimited access."
"Now that sounds interesting. To what, exactly?

You've heard of vampires?"
I nodded.
"You've heard of werwolves?"
"Of course."
"Had you ever heard of us?"
I shook my head.
"That's called 'staying under the radar,' dear Kate. It's what we're good at.

I nodded.
"You've" title="Amy Plum Quotes: You've heard of vampires?"
I nodded.
"You've" width="913px" height="515px" loading="lazy"/>

Sorry I'm not your boyfriend. And I mean that in all sorts of ways.

He ran his finger along my jawline and down my neck. The wait will be fun, but it's not going to be easy.

My mom said I was an escapist at heart ... that I preferred imaginary worlds to the real one

Not that I don't think you're totally hot when you're dripping with sweat.

The next day Georgia left for school before I even got to the breakfast table. From behind his newspaper, Papy asked tiredly, Are you girls on World War Four now, or is it Five?

I find myself wishing that I could work that magic for her. That I could bring the smile back to her face. But I slap at those thoughts as if they were mosquitoes. What am I doing, caring so much about my best friend's love? I deny my feelings for her because they shouldn't exist.

Let's just say that I'm not the kind of guy your mother would want you hanging around with - Vincent (Die For Me)

Maybe I wasn't happy, but I wasn't sad. I was just ... there.

Ladies, it's almost midnight. And I, for one, hoped not to have to resort to kissing Gaspard when the clock strikes twelve.