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Jennifer Ashley
“You’ve been in the mating frenzy before.”

Eric looked up at her, his eyes quiet. “Yes.”

”With Kirsten.”

”Yes.”

Iona touched her hands together. “You must have loved her very much.”

Eric nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

”Then why do you want another mate?”

Eric pushed himself from the fireplace and came to her, the first flickers of fire shadowing his tall, naked body. He skimmed warm hands down her arms.

”Because I saw you.”
― Jennifer Ashley, Mate Claimed

Tiffany Reisz
“I don’t believe in ghosts and neither should you, Kingsley.”
”Why not? I’ve been in love with a ghost for thirty years.”
Kingsley strolled over to the armchair and sat on the ottoman between the other man’s knees. Soren narrowed his eyes at him.
“The body’s not even cold yet. Eleanor’s been gone one day and you’re already trying to get me into bed again?”
”Again?” Kingsley laughed and rolled his eyes. “Always. Are you surprised?”
Soren shrugged. “Not really.”
― Tiffany Reisz, The Prince

“I’m your uncle?”

Oh. So that’s what was bothering him. Izzy could have done a lot of things at this moment to assuage Eibhear’s annoyance. A lot of things.

She didn’t do any of them.

Instead she said, “Well…you are my uncle.” She brushed a bit of nonexistent dirt off his bare shoulder. “And I was your ward until years later when you finally had your vile, dirty uncle way with me.”

”Izzy.”
― G.A. Aiken, How to Drive a Dragon Crazy

Molly McAdams
“She nodded against me. “Do you need me to do anything?”
I didn’t need a thing from her, but I wanted everything. I wanted her to leave Tyler, to love me, to want to live here with me for the rest of our lives. I wanted so damn much.
”Just go back to sleep, then enjoy the rest of the day with the girls. I’ll be back tonight.”
”I’ll be waiting her for you.”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath in and held it. if only she knew what she did to me.”
― Molly McAdams, From Ashes

Katie Lane
“Which didn't explain why Brant remained outside with Elizabeth, even when he started to suffer from heatstroke. Or maybe heatstroke was only the excuse he used for what happened next. With one eye pinned on Elizabeth, he stripped off his shirt, something he rarely did, and proceeded to perform feats of strength. He moved large rocks for no good reason, grunting as if he were leg-pressing a good five hundred pounds. He welded hedge clippers like Edward Scissorhands. And hoed like a lumberjack bent on clearing the Sierras.

It was heatstroke. It had to be. There was no other way to explain a thirty-eight-year-old man flexing and posing for a woman like some goddamned body builder in a competition.

And the worst part about it was she didn't even pay him the slightest bit of attention.”
― Katie Lane, Trouble in Texas

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