romance-novels

Believe that sometimes choices in life aren't always what we WANT. But sometimes, they're what we NEED

You CAN have your cake and eat it too. Just don't start choking.

The mind of man can only teach what he has learned from others. It is how you use that knowledge that will decide who you are.

I want to see the sunrise with you. I want to watch the sunset. I want to make out during a movie. Silly, huh?

If you're waiting for me to declare my undying love for you, I can't do that yet, blood-bond or no blood-bond. If you think I'm the swoony type of heroine you find in romance novels, who'll fall into your arms just because you saved me from an alternate reality or whatever, get ready to leave empty handed, because I don't want to be caught.

You can't take away something she never fully had. She may have been promised to me, but my heart will never belong to her!

I don't see why she didn't ditch both of them. Like being single is terminal.

I was where my heart held out hope that someday I would be again. It was the reason I never forgot him. My heart had held onto him. And as he clung to me, as he soothed me, held me, I felt everything begin to relax.

If measuring by this earthly realm's time then it's been years but in the unseen realm above known as Vehaven, it has been but a moment.

You don__ get one chance at life but many over one lifetime.

Stop being afraid of what could go wrong and think of what could go right.

Like a bellowing beast, he howled her name, his raspy wails riding the gales like a ship on a roiling sea.

Babe, when we have sex, we create magic. We leave earth. We travel the fucking universe. Sex with you goes on and never ends. It transcends. I__ fucking addicted to it. Addicted to you. I didn__ want to share you.

Love that is not madness is not love.

A good part of the physical attraction [between the hero and heroine of a romance novel] comes to life during these exchanges as well, since language creates a meeting of the minds. I have long thought that these lines of dialogue carve out the lines of the central love relationship. The dialogue between the hero and heroine creates the central shape of the story. It is the verbal sculpture.

I needed to survive tonight to keep living my life as if nothing had happened.

Heavy hearts, heavy eyelids," said the master of the caravan."Huh?" Heather looked up in dismay, shocked to find she'd nearly been left behind as the caravan prepared to move on. Her last night's sleep had been fitful, full of dreams where Khalid made her suffer for running away. Now she felt drained and groggy, unable to get the images of Khalid spanking her over his knee and then ravishing her out of her tired head."Look," the caravan master said. "Riders approaching, a great armed party. No doubt they are searching for escaped slaves.""No doubt." Heather straightened up wearily in the saddle, determined to outwit Khalid and conceal her true identity as a runaway. The one thing she was sure of was that capture would bring a fate worse than death. Already she could imagine Khalid tying her up, spanking her bottom, making her howl for mercy until she had no pride or will to resist. And then would come the true test of her virtue . . .

As a first-generation Ethiopian immigrant, Sheba had lived in Charleston since she turned five years of age. She was Ethiopian by birth, but American by preference. She had worked hard, studied and sacrificed plenty to get where she was today, no easy feat for someone who had just celebrated her twenty-sixth birthday. According to her friends, Sheba was a beauty, though when she looked in the mirror, she saw inevitable flaws; her cheekbones were too pronounced, her mouth a little too wide, her nose with that perturbing slant to it. Still, she accepted compliments gratefully, especially from her roommate, Janelle. Janelle was the true beauty, Sheba thought, with dark ebony skin so smooth that she could be a walking ad for Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate.