“In her dreams the Hawk would be waiting for her by the sea's edge; her kilt-clad, magnificent Scottish laird. He would smile… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Hawk?" He gazed up at her, still crouched on the floor, ready to pounce if she so much as moved an inch.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“He is raw sex in a bottle, uncorked. And somebody needs to cork it!” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Adrijene, nemoj da se duriš! Vrati se! U redu grešila sam duge godine nisam se vracala kuci, ali sam ti uvek krila… — Jacques Prévert Copy Share Image
“What are the tales?" Adrienne asked wryly. "His exploits are legendary!" "His conquests are legion. 'Tis rumored he's traveled the world accompanied… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
