Music burst through him, perfect notes he hear rarely. Fire and ice, wind and calm, sky and earth, water and rock all… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
It's all well and good to look back after the fact and see what we should have done, but we rarely know… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“Even so, the two of us look memorable in these clothes. And your shirt is transparent. I don’t think I can take a bunch… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“Sleep deeply, the sleep of our people, chosen one of my sister,that you will heal completely and wake refreshed and in full strength.” — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“Savannah came to him instantly, her face lit up with some emotion he dared not name.She was in a man's silk shirt and nothing… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
The real question is, can you love the real me? Not the perfect person you want me to be, not that image you had… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“At her tender age she was incapable of understanding such a history,” — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
He felt safe with her. He'd never been safe with another human being, not since he'd been taken as a child from his home.… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“Before anything else, I need your trust. Your absolute trust in me--and yourself. You have to know you are the only woman I will… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“He kissed her with everything he was. Man. Beast. Killer. Biker. Hers. Every cell in his body belonged to her.” — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“Her body clenched with hot desire, and without thinking she bathed Jacques’ mind in her heat. She saw his body hunch, as if someone… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“Climb back up here. We’re going to have to jump.” She stated it so calmly he almost didn’t comprehend. His head snapped around. “Are… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
“ You really know how to stir up the hornets’ nest with the women, do you not? Mikhail demanded, even though he understood Gregori… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
Everyone knows ladies love Cajuns. It's in our blood and our language is the language of romance." "Your language is the language of bullshit.… — Christine Feehan Copy Share Image
