The Tarishe Curse Quotes

“It isn’t always true that a critical end justifies desperate means.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“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, The Tarishe Curse

“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, The Tarishe Curse

“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 on an eve of my honeymoon. Devilish irony.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“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, The Tarishe Curse

“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, The Tarishe Curse

“Naivety doesn’t excuse poor choices, darling. You and I both know life is unforgiving. I can’t rescue every drowning pup that is stupid enough to peer too deeply down a well.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Vengeance has no rules. It has no heart, no conscience, no dignity, and no true allies.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“When I heard a sharp scream, both shrill and short, my head automatically turned in the direction of the sound. I found Kresh standing at the wooden podium. He had opened one of the books piled upon it. For some odd reason, he was madly tearing out fistfuls of pages. It took a moment to comprehend that the book was screaming in response to his violent actions, as if an inanimate object were actually suffering pain. Kresh ripped the spine off, destroying the book and silencing the cries of anguish. He then threw the mangled carcass on the floor.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Contention is a bile that when stirred becomes malevolence.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“It is not inability itself, but the feeling of powerlessness that breeds fear. That fear then breeds hatred. And hatred, the spawn of fear and powerlessness, leads us to ruin.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Using the sword as an extension of my arm, I gestured with a flick of the wrist, signaling for the swine standing between me and freedom to move aside and clear the exit. He failed to comply.

“Where will you go?” he asked, allowing no time for an answer. “Anywhere but here is unsafe. There’s no other sanctuary in which you can hide. My mother will sense the awakening of her gemstone. She will seek it out the moment you exit these walls. And if she and her loyal gargoyles are not threat enough, then consider your cruel fairy godmother—the sorceress responsible for the violence that left you unconscious in a pool of your own blood. She will no doubt come after you again if you leave these shielding walls.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“In the shallow glory of victory, there is momentous cost. Enemies are forged there while peace is irremediably devastated.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Their leader looked over at me, his flawless lips in an even line, his nose chiseled to a point like an arrow aimed my way. Raven waves fell away from big eyes exhibiting more alertness in their stare than any animal or human naturally possessed. Despite how defenseless I knew myself to be, I refused to show him fear.

Jovani turned back to the four members from his clan. “I won’t need backup, Percival, I have a priceless bargaining chip.”

From the way the others eyed my form, I understood it was me he considered his negotiating leverage. I felt somewhat confident that meant I was more valuable alive.

“This stinks,” one of the lady vampires complained.

“No, Concetta, that’s just the dog.”

A perky nose sniffed in my direction as they shared a trill of amusement at my expense. All but Jovani.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“I reached to feel at the side of his bearded face. It was warmed by life-sustaining blood pumping through his veins, moistened by beads of sweat formed from uncertainties. I had my love alive in front of me. How desperately I wanted to order him to stay behind, to guard the camp and keep clear of harm’s way. But remaining here amounted to hiding, which would torture the hero he was. Kresh never turned aside from danger. He was no coward. He would ignore my order and fight beside his fellow warriors—a right I could not deny him. Come whatever magic and chaos may, he would stand his ground. I needed him to survive it. Otherwise, our years of struggle and sacrifice would come to nothing. To have the Tarishe curse ended at long last and yet lose him in the process… I could imagine no more agonizing curse than that.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“My mind was caught up in an inexplicable mystery!

I had changed, and it bothered me. Not like a subtle adaptation one would deem a nuisance, but vitally enough to eat at my gut. Like a snake slithering out of its old, scaly skin, I had somehow shed my previous self—a person whom I feared was my better self. How had this happened? And so fast! So drastically!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“I would prefer that you not touch me," I said when her hand moved as if she intended to comb her long nails through my hair.

"I’m afraid it can’t be helped," she replied. Her fingers passed close to my ear as they divided my straight lengths into sections and lifted the whole away from my face. There was a brazenness to her smile for a moment. She then released my hair, letting it fall onto my shoulders.

I swallowed back a rise of anxiety, wondering if Thaddeus was right to fear her.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“The fact that some clutched at their throats suggested death by asphyxiation or poisoning. But what about the persons standing? They seemed unaffected. Why? Had only a few taken a sip from the vial? Had anyone but the woman sipped from the vial? Was there a trick to being unaffected?”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“My muscles tensed at an unexpected shiver, an unsuitably cold reaction to the warm late-afternoon. Nonetheless, I felt chilled to the core, as if my heart were receiving a transfusion of ice water for blood. My mind had come to a dead-end contemplating past, present, and future decisions. It seemed that every choice I made hoping to protect my family was tied to a consequence that inevitably injured them. Harm was the result of everything I did—everything I had done—regardless of selfless or heroic intentions. The truth hit hard, suddenly horribly clear, as if stepping up to a full-length mirror. The Tarishe curse had taken on my own likeness. I had become the curse, a scourge to my family. This had always been the witch’s plan.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse

“Somehow, unexpectedly, that disparaging statement drove us into a fit of unwarranted laughter. I couldn’t help but guffaw at the truth; we were fools! Tears spilled down our cheeks as we envisioned our situation as pathetically hilarious. We were senseless jesters mocking fate. It was a bizarre feeling, making merry noises while standing on the brink of devastation, laughing with lighter spirits at the folly that had brought us to ruin.
It was insane!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, The Tarishe Curse