“Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said as he set down the pail to survey the room. “You found water!” “There was a stream close by.” His gaze fixed on what she held in her hand. “I see you found… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“ I'll bet My. Pinter knows his way around a rifle. She scowled. He probably thought he was a grand shot, anyway. For a man whose lineage was reputedly unsavory, Mr. Pinter was so high in the instep that she… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“Wait, were you eavesdropping on my conversation with the duke? That's very rude." "Is it? Half of the plays in the world contain eavesdropping.… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“I merely don't like drafts, or servants falling and breaking their ankles, making them incapable of serving me." "I understand completely." Her gaze held a decided glint of mischief. “You are , after all, an unrepentant and thoroughly irresponsible rogue.” “Something it would behoove you not to forget,” he growled, unnerved by her refusal to take him seriously. “How can… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share
“So, Byrne, did you and Christabel get lost on the way down? Perhaps we should send you a floor plan for next time. The… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“I wish you'd tell the truth, but since I know that isn't preferable--" "The truth is always preferable, my dear. It's just not always… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
The man is always the last to know when Cupid has struck him -Anonymous, Memoirs of a Mistress — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share
“Listen carefully, and don’t panic.” With his eyes still on that wretched spot behind her, he slid his right hand slowly to the hilt… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“It’s wonderful,” he choked out. “Absolutely wonderful.” He smoothed his hand over her belly. “I can’t imagine anything better than having a child with you, my love. But are you sure?” She relaxed. “As sure as anyone can be at this point. Your aunt and I think I may be nearly three months along, so…” When she trailed off with… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share
The best time to write is when your life is in the toilet. Writing offers an escape from your problems, so if you force yourself to write when you're in the doldrums, it will have the perverse effect of cheering you up. At the very least, it allows you to inflict your pain on your characters, which has the dual… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share
“That’s all she cared about—protecting her brother, who was probably some fop with a lame sword hand and a fear of pistols!” — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“You won’t try to kiss me again?” “Given your method for handling that problem? No. I don’t particularly like pain.” — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share Image
“Suddenly he spotted Gran deep in conversation with Kitty’s closest friend, and relief coursed through him. Gran would squelch the tale at once. And once she tried to quash the gossip, he would win-because he could then threaten to send notice to the papers of his betrothal if she didn’t back down. She’d have no choice but to give up… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share
“Then he happened to glance at the viscount, and his blood stilled. The viscount’s eyes followed Celia’s every move, and his finger kept stroking his goblet as if he wanted to stroke some part of her. Jackson gritted his teeth. No way in hell was he letting that bloody foreigner-or Devonmont, or even the duke-stroke anything of hers. “Are we… — Sabrina Jeffries Copy Share
