Beverly Barton > Quotes

“We're getting married as soon as possible,' he said.

'Is that what you call a proposal?'

'I'm not much of a romantic, honey, but you already know that. And I won't be much of a bargain as a husband, but I have a feeling you'll whip me into shape without too much trouble. Heck, by the time we have kids, I'll probably be downright domesticated.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“Ride em, cowgirl,' he said.

And she did.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“You'd think after seven years of riding, I'd have you broken in by now.' She licked him intimately.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“Have you ever done any running or jogging?” Hawk asked.
[...]
“I walk,” she told him. “I’ve never had any desire to run or jog.”
“Why not? Don’t you like to sweat?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She smiled. “Besides, Southern ladies never sweat. We don’t even perspire.”
“Then what the hell do you do?”
“We glow.”
― Beverly Barton, Gabriel Hawk's Lady

“It's obvious Plott doesn't have any idea where he's going.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“The man towered over her five-foot-four-inch frame by a good ten inches. He was big, dark and deadly-looking, with piercing ebony eyes and long, silky black hair secured in a ponytail. Dressed all in black—leather jacket, cotton shirt and jeans—he blended into the night like a prince of darkness. Rorie shuddered at the thought. Whoever or whatever this man was, he was danger personified.”
― Beverly Barton, Gabriel Hawk's Lady

“She swung the Stetson around and around on her finger, lifted it and whirled it through the air. It landed right on target, sitting up straight over his arousal.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“Joanna nodded in agreement, not resisting, not putting up a fight of any kind.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“Plott's every touch, whether he was beating her or caressing her, was a form of brutalizing manipulation.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“He was going to rip Plott apart, piece by piece.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“Thankfully, Plott hadn't taken them very far inside.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“He had to take Plott unaware.”
― Beverly Barton, Blackwood's Woman

“He had wanted. He had needed. He had desired. And he had taken. But he had never loved.”
― Beverly Barton, Gabriel Hawk's Lady

“that.”
― Beverly Barton, Don't Say a Word

“A solo game,”
― Beverly Barton, The Watcher

“and a hat and sunglasses.” “None of this information is new.” He eyed her knowingly. “There’s more, isn’t there?” “His hair was brown. His cheeks very pink. Either flushed or chapped. He was clean-shaven. She’s very certain of those facts. His clothing was inexpensive, but his gloves were furlined leather and she believes the scarf around his neck was silk.” “He wore a combination of his own expensive clothes and cheaper apparel.” “He was quite fair, his face round and full, his nose large, rather prominent. Not handsome, but not ugly.” “Anything else?” Griffin asked, knowing that even with an artist’s sketch, it was unlikely anyone could ID the suspect from this description. But it was far more than they’d ever had. And there was always the off chance that even a sketch showing a guy in sunglasses and wearing a hat might be of some use. After all, they now had a partial description. “Does Barbara Jean have any idea that you were—?” “No. When we spoke, she simply repeated what she had already told you in the past,” Yvette said. “The rest, I gained by invading her private thoughts.” Griff took Yvette’s small, slender hands into his, lifted them to his lips and kissed first one and then the other. “Don’t feel guilty for using your special talent. You did it for the right reason, for a good cause.” “The end always justifies the means.” Her voice held a tone of self-condemnation. “Not always,” he told her. “But sometimes.”
― Beverly Barton, The Chosen

“bringing in folding chairs to place in the aisles. She didn’t know Reverend Kelley, but she had met his elder daughter, Kim Randall, through her community service, and her heart went out to the Kelley family. The life of every clergyman in the region was at risk, including Dewan’s life, a thought she could hardly bear. But everyone had to be wondering who the killer would target as his next victim. With her head held high and a brave expression on her face, she entered the sanctuary and found her spot in the front row between Deacon Fuqua and his wife, Dionne. She leaned across and spoke to the deacon. “Should someone adjust the air-conditioning? With so many people packed inside the church, it’s bound to get hot.” “It’s being done,” Deacon Fuqua told her. “Can you believe this crowd? I see God’s hand in this prayer vigil that Dewan organized.” “God’s hand is in everything my husband does,” she said. A flurry of activity up on the podium at the front of the sanctuary gained Tasha’s attention. The members of the choir, decked out in their white and gold robes, were taking their places and preparing to sing God’s praises. She closed her eyes, her every thought a prayer for all those whose hearts were heavy tonight. Patsy and Elliott Floyd had arrived in time to find seats in the middle aisle, a few pews from the back of the building. As she glanced around, Patsy was pleased to see so many of her parishioners here this evening. She had sent out e-mails to the entire congregation and made numerous personal phone calls. Tonight’s prayer vigil was of great importance on several different levels. First and foremost, Bruce Kelley needed the combined strength of this type of group praying. Second, holding this vigil at the black Baptist church went a long way toward bridging the gap between black and white Christians in the area. Third, this was an example of how all churches, regardless of their doctrine, could support one another. And coming together to pray for one of their own would bring strength and comfort to the ministers and their families who were living each day with fear in their hearts. As they sat quietly side by side, Elliott reached between them and took her hand in his. They had been married for nearly thirty years, and they had stayed together through thick and thin. They had argued often in the early years, mostly because Elliott had never been at home and she’d been trapped there with two toddlers. She had not been as understanding as she should have been. After all, Elliott had been holding down a part-time job and putting”
― Beverly Barton, The Wife

“Claire”
― Beverly Barton, Cold Hearted

“true to the time period. If he actually moved into”
― Beverly Barton, Silent Killer

“floor in a pool of blood. His eyes were open. Blood and saliva trickled from his mouth. The”
― Beverly Barton, The Watcher

“down her bare legs. Squirming against him, she issued a weak protest. “No, Jared. Please.” His sex”
― Beverly Barton, Nine Months Part 2