“You've felt guilty ever since, haven't you? That's why you're such a rogue reporter, with your exposés and your inside dirt. It's all backlash." "You see right through me, Jones. I'm just a tortured soul, in search of redemption. So… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share
“Arianna and I walked side by side along the route that led through the center of Sanctuary the next day. All but invisible, or… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share Image
I enjoy heroines who grow and come into their own during the course of a story. — Maggie Shayne Copy Share Image
“I don't like you, Jack. You know that, right ?" "Right. No more than I like you, Brigham." "And I'm not afraid of this thing. I'm not afraid of anything. You know that, too, right ?" "I've never seen you scared. I can give you that." Till now, he thought, but he didn't say that part aloud, mostly because it… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share
“You've felt guilty ever since, haven't you? That's why you're such a rogue reporter, with your exposés and your inside dirt. It's all backlash." "You see right through me, Jones. I'm just a tortured soul, in search of redemption. So you wanna have sex with me now?" The look on her face went from one of sympathetic understanding to one… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share
“ARE MY CHILDREN still alive?" Sara Prague asked the question in a quiet, steady voice that he heard very clearly despite the noise around her. Cops coming and going, keyboards clicking, phones ringing. She looked haggard. Hard. She hadn't always, Vince figured. The worry lines bracketing her eyes, her mouth, the dry skin, the chapped lips, the sense that she… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share
“Turning, she unlocked the next door and went through it to the larger part of the” — Maggie Shayne Copy Share Image
It was because a great-looking man with no apparent mental defects found her attractive. Imagine feeling so buoyant over something so juvenile. — Maggie Shayne Copy Share Image
Readers will stand up and cheer for Karen Fox's Prince of Charming! Finally, a heroine who's a real woman. Finally, a hero who knows… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share Image
“Lonely is better than used, Brigit. Besides, who the hell is there to trust? Who do you suggest I start with?” — Maggie Shayne Copy Share Image
“Dark clouds skittered over the half moon, making shadows on her face, and the wind coming off the lake, whipped more of her hair loose. It reached for him, caressing his cheeks like loving fingers. Right then, he was afraid he’d do anything she asked of him. She leaned back, hands flat on the ground behind her, and her legs… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share
“Cops coming and going, keyboards clicking, phones ringing. She looked haggard. Hard. She hadn't always, Vince figured. The worry lines bracketing her eyes, her mouth, the dry skin, the chapped lips, the sense that she really didn't give a damn what she looked like—those things had been strangers to her that first day. The day her kids hadn't come home… — Maggie Shayne Copy Share
