“Why?" She asked in a confused whisper. "Out of all the women in the world, why did you choose this mortal?" "Because… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“Tis not your time, my love,” he whispered. “You will not die tonight.” “Never,” I said to him, “for I have been… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“The first time I met death, it was at a ball and we danced a waltz.” — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“I’m still scared, still wanting to run at times when I look into your eyes and wonder how I will ever be the sort… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“She was breathtaking in her beauty and her human spirit, he thought, unable to speak as he gazed upon her. Hers was the sort… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“How will I accomplish such a thing?” he said, and her lashes fluttered closed as his bottom lip scraped gently up the curve of… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“Everywhere you are, I will be. Everywhere you go, I will go. I will follow you into your dreams, stay while you sleep, watch… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“A friend. A companion. A beautiful, passionate lover to spend the days and nights with. A woman to carry my children, a partner to… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“He was drowning, he finally admitted. Drowning in the allure of Lady Jane Westbury.” — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“She brought a finger to her mouth, licked it. Salt. A clean scent. Not male sweat rich with the scent of musk and masculine… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“She saw how he was staring at it, the bright red hue beneath her bonnet. She could not bear to see the way he… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“No, by God, you’ve accused me of coldness, but how can you, when you can feel how hot my body is against yours? You’ve… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“But this night is not through. We’ve made love. And now, to the bed, where the f*cking will commence.” — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“Slave. Minion. Fiend. The others who have come before me have been called such things, but I prefer to think of myself as a… — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
“Pressing his forehead to the cool glass, he held her gaze, her palm, his eyes pleading with her. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.” — Charlotte Featherstone Copy Share Image
