Quotes From "The Tarishe Curse" By Richelle E. Goodrich

Are you ready to go home, Catherine?” he asked. “It’s warm inside the house. I kept a fire going for you.” I continued looking at him, unsure how to respond. “Thanks, ” I managed to say and then glanced in the direction of his house–our house. “Well, you are my wife. And I know you don’t like the cold.” I’m his wife, I thought to myself. He had said the words as if that simple fact made it necessary to be both thoughtful and kind. As if having gained a wife or husband meant having also gained her or his concerns, and hence the need to consider the person’s needs, wants, and preferences as strongly as one’s own. It struck me as a perfect description of what marriage ought to be. An agreeable notion that had not entered into my petty way of viewing matrimony. I would have assumed it to be above Thaddeus’ egotistical mindset as well.“ Catherine?” he said again, watching me regard him with a quizzical expression. “Are you ready to go home?” I nodded, which made him smile. Richelle E. Goodrich

My ears interpreted a mix of nearby voices as calm, friendly, ordinary chatter. With that as background noise, I enjoyed the silent attention of my mate. The way his hand brushed softly over every inch of my bare skin tempted my eyelids to close and my mind to wander, but I kept focused, not wanting to miss a moment of admiring this beautiful man and his seductive, wild look. I felt a flood of emotion set in, born from absolute, interminable love for him. I wished for the voices to cease, for time to halt, for the moment we were living to replay over and over and over again perpetually. The world could have its gain and glory, its vengeance and victories. All I wanted was the enduring love and attention of this man who most assuredly was my soulmate. . Richelle E. Goodrich

Thank you, ” I managed to say. Replying with a nod, he approached my horse. “Here, let me help you–” I slipped down myself before he could lend a hand, keeping the fur hide in my possession. “I’m not suddenly incapable because I wear a dress, Thaddeus.”“I wasn’t suggesting….” Wisely, he let the issue drop. Lifting an arm, he offered it to me. That’s when I noticed my sword in sheath belted to his waist.“ That’s mine! ” I declared, reaching for the hilt. Thaddeus managed a quick side-step. He hardened his jaw at my look of incredulity. I would only wait momentarily for an explanation. “I know the sword is yours, Catherine, everyone knows that. But you’re too beautiful tonight to ruin that radiant look with an ugly, leather belt strapped about you.” I was starting to think the man was using compliments as a weapon to defend himself against me. It did work to temper my anger somewhat.“ I brought the sword as a cautionary act, just in case those nasty werewolves show up. Seeing how I’ll be standing beside you all evening, the blade will be at your disposal if needed.” I accepted his reasoning and stood down. “Besides, ” Thaddeus added, apparently feeling safe, “what’s yours is mine now anyway.” I glared at the fool. “That works both ways, you know.” He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “If it must.” Again, he offered me his arm which I grudgingly accepted. . Richelle E. Goodrich

Imagined happiness is still happiness. Richelle E. Goodrich

Misery is a river of tears that whispers my name in a constant hiss. Richelle E. Goodrich

He gestured at me. “Do you like the blanket?” I nodded. “It’s warm.”“ I made it. Well, actually, I didn’t skin the animal, but I did kill it….after the others pinned it down. It’s werewolf skin.” My heart faltered; I gripped at a wad of black fur.“ I slayed the beast for you, Catherine. I used your sword. It was your grandmother’s idea actually, a wedding present. You mentioned how chilly you g . Richelle E. Goodrich

Vengeance would have us assault an enemy's pride to beat him down. But vengeance hides a dangerous truth, for a humbled foe gains patience, courage, strength, and greater determination. Richelle E. Goodrich

Vengeance, retaliation, retribution, revenge are deceitful brothers–vile, beguiling demons promising justifiable compensation to a pained soul for his losses. Yet in truth they craftily fester away all else of worth remaining. Richelle E. Goodrich

Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled. Richelle E. Goodrich

It isn’t always true that a critical end justifies desperate means. Richelle E. Goodrich

I squinted at the western sky behind Thaddeus, a blood-red smear melting into blackness. Twisting my neck, I glanced the opposite direction. My teeth clenched at a magnified, round moon nearly as scarlet as the portending sunset, its luminous face half masked by hazy cloud cover. Hatred, vengeance, anger……such emotions coursed through my veins in a poisonous concoction that muddied my mind, impelling me to grip my sword tighter and fight with every ounce of strength I possessed against those who threatened my family - my kind. Currently, Thaddeus was behaving as such a threat, using his powers of persuasion to condone human sacrifice for some outrageously perceived good. He wanted an offering for the monsters; a desperate, futile offering of human flesh that would in no way protect the other villagers from being mauled as he promised. Richelle E. Goodrich

I let my sword slip to the ground, and for the second time I stood unarmed in the presence of werewolves. Kresh put his lips to my forehead, and my skin burned beneath his kiss. When his hands repositioned to take me by the waist, my breathing–already shallow–ceased entirely. Then his lips fell on mine and I was suddenly everything he claimed me to be–his mate, his wife, his world. The taste of him seemed mysteriously new and old at the same time. Every bit of tension eased as if internally I had come home again, and yet a sense of foreignness made our connection a sweet venture. My breast was afire as he continued to grasp my hips, keeping me close. I burned for him as if vampire venom were coursing through every inch of me. The man was a constellation of suns in my desire, unlike Thaddeus who hardly equaled a speck of stardust. The thought of that coward reminded me of grim news. It took every bit of willpower I possessed to tear my lips away from what they craved, and yet I remained a submissive puddle in this werewolf’s arms. Richelle E. Goodrich

Turn around….you’ve got grass and dead flowers…” My fingers naturally began to comb through my long, black strands, shaking things loose as Sarti carefully removed more stubborn pieces. The flowers had been left over from my forced marriage to Thaddeus. The grass, from a sensual night with Kresh the eve of my honeymoon. Devilish irony. Richelle E. Goodrich

Kresh kept silent beside me as Baron rehearsed his deadly plan. I listened with my eyes aimed at the horizon, witnessing the night consume a final red vein of daylight. It struck me that nightfall always drowned the sunset. Never did the sun resurface from where it sank, nor would it ever. Richelle E. Goodrich

I drifted off after a while, staring at the only star visible through the thick covering of leaves. Hope seemed a futile wish, but I troubled the lonely star to grant it anyway. Richelle E. Goodrich

Was mutual need enough to risk trusting a calculated enemy in hopes of destroying a more powerful one? Richelle E. Goodrich

Enemies may unite to eliminate a common threat, but never without a wary eye fixed on their ally. Richelle E. Goodrich