Shh,” he whispered. “You asked me if I loved you. I do. I love you more than life itself. Nothing matters in this world but that you live. Can you do that for me? Can you live?— Elizabeth Hoyt
The most craziest Elizabeth Hoyt quotes that are simple and will have a huge impact on you
Every word you have ever uttered, is engraved upon my heart. -Lazarus to his mother.
All her life she'd been warned that men were slaves to their desires, that they held their impulses in barely controlled check. A woman--a lady--must be very, very careful of her actions so she did not put spark to the gunpowder that was a man's libido.
Your cousin might be a pretty face, but you, my darling, courageous, maddening, seductive, mysterious, wonderful Diana, you are the Duchess of Wakefield. My duchess.
Do you love me Hero?" His pale green eyes were full of torment. "Do you love me like I love you?
But like the legless man, I'm unaccountably fascinated by those who can dance.
I pretty much started out writing full time.
I was an at-home mom and when my youngest entered kindergarten, I started writing. I was 35, and before that I really hadn't written at all. Which means, I guess, that a) it's never too late to start a writing career (or any career you really want) and b) it's OK to get to your mid-30s and still not know what you want to be when you grow up.
A garden always has a point.
You have to be very clear with yourself about how you're going to spend your time. When a child is at school or napping, you need to realize that this is your writing time and you don't spend it surfing the Internet or reading.
She swallowed and looked down at the artichoke petals piled neatly on the side of her plate. Her center certainly felt like it was melting, growing soft and wet just from the rasp of Mr. O'Connor's voice. Why should a man already devilishly handsome also have a voice that could charm birds from the sky? It simply wasn't fair.
Much of life is a game. If played skillfully, with an intelligent and fascinating opponent, it can become almost a dance. One challenges and moves, the other teases and skips away, only to dart forward later and strike a telling blow.
Weep for me. Bear my pain. Take my come. For I can give you nothing else.
Now, now," said Vale in a sickeningly sweet voice reminiscent of a nursery nanny. "I already gave him a drubbing for courting Emmie."Reynaud raised his eyebrows. "You did?""He did not," Hartley said even as Vale nodded happily. "I threw him down the stairs."Vale pursed his lips and looked skyward. "Not my recollection, but I can see how your memory of the event may've become hazy.
He grinned, though his face was strained. “That’s it, love. Use me to make yerself feel good.
Finally he turned his head toward her face and brushed a kiss over her cheek.
" love you and I believe with all my heart that you love me as well. Why can’t you say it, Hero?"
As for inspiration, I find stark fear of missing the deadline very inspiring.
There's something about her," Caire said in a low voice.
"She cares for everyone about her, yet neglects herself. I want to be the one who cares for her.
If I'm good enough to bed, surely I'm good enough to wed.
I watched you for years,” she whispered.
The tears were drying on her cheeks, and heat was building within her. If he would just touch her. Touch her there. “I watched you and you never saw me.
Will ye come with me?” he whispered. And she answered without hesitation. “Yes, please.
I'll never look at you in any way but complete admiration.
” He stroked her hair soothingly. “You will never be a millstone about my neck. Rather you're the sunshine that brightens my day.” He swallowed. “Don't you see? You brought me into the daylight. You've embraced parts of me that I was never able to let see light. Don't make me retreat again into the night. (Winter Makepeace)
He watched her retreat, his eyes lazy, and his body unmoving.
A trickle of blood seeped slowly from the corner of his mouth. He let her get nearly out of the room before he spoke, “I may not have the right, Silence, me love,” he drawled so soft she nearly didn’t catch the words. “But I would’ve listened to ye. I would’ve believed ye.
... You are the closest I will ever come to heaven, either here on Earth or in the afterlife, and I will not regret it, not even at the cost of your tears. So I go to my grave an unrepentant sinner, I’m afraid. There is no use in mourning one such as I, dearest... -Simon to Lucy in a letter before the last duel.
I would do violence for one glimpse of your naked breasts.
Bleed for one taste of your nipple on my tongue. (Winter Makepeace)
I write both at home and at coffee shops, and I have a terrible work ethic - I have a tendency to write most of my books right before the deadline. I'm trying to work on that, but so far, I'm not getting any more organized.
You say my name like a lover, so soft, so sweet.
I want to lick the word from your lips, sip the exhaled breath from your mouth. I want to possess you utterly. Right now. Right here.
Shhh.” He put a finger to her lips. “Hear me out. I cannot deny that I would've liked to have made babies with you. A little girl with your hair and eyes would've been the delight of my life. But it is you that I want primarily, not mythical children. I can survive the loss of something I've never had. I cannot survive losing you. (Winter Makepeace)
I decided long ago that my family absolutely comes first, and I don't regret that. I do, however, sometimes wish I had an extra five hours or so in the day!
I think I do pretty well with child characters.
It's hard to write kids that are realistic, not annoying, and bring something to the story.
Dear God. She ached, wanting something that she knew was a sin. Wanting a man who was sin itself.
Do you think 'Duke' is a good name?' she asked.
His face blanked for a second before it cleared. He glanced at the dog in consideration. 'I don't think so. He would outrank me.
Good.” He straddled her, caging her with his body. “Were it up to me, all of London would know what we do here. -Griffin to Hero.
Somehow she knew he would take a love affair very seriously indeed.
Once that pinpoint focus was engaged, he would throw himself body and soul into the liaison. In the the woman he decided to take as a lover. A shiver ran through her at the thought. To be the object of such ferocious regard was an alluring prospect, but it also gave her pause.
There are no heroes on the battlefield, my lady; there are only survivors.
But I intend to make you respectable.
He grunted and stirred, withdrawing from her.
She only had a moment to be disappointed and then he flipped her to her back and rose over her, powerful and male. He casually parted her legs with his knees and thrust into her again, hot and hard. She gasped at the swift invasion, the lovely feeling, and then his face was next to hers, his big palms cradling her cheeks. “What I want,” he drawled, “is ye. Nothin’ else.
Shhh,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just feel.
Just because I don't deserve her doesn't mean I won't fight to keep her.
He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others.
Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well.
Each time it was like a stray bit of glass pressed into the softness of her heart, grinding, grinding, oh so silently until she no longer noticed when she bled.
This is my social face,” he said lightly. “Don’t confuse it with the animal beneath.
It was a strange thing, this feeling of empathy.
He'd never experienced it before. He realized that what hurt this woman hurt him as well, that what made her bleed caused a hemorrhage of pain within his soul.
I love you," she sobbed, rubbing her hands over his face, his hair, his chest, making sure he was solid and real. "I love you, and I thought you were dead. I couldn't bear it. I thought I would die too." "I'd walk through fire for you," he rasped, his voice hoarse and broken. "I have walked through fire for you.
Excuse me, but I believe you have my lady,” one of them said in a quiet, deep voice that sent veritable chills down George’s spine. Harry.