“Seventeen more days,” Jessi breathed wonderingly. “God, you must be climbing the . . . er, walls . . . or whatever’s in there, huh?” “Aye.” “So, just what is in there, anyway?” She tested the glass by shaking it… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“Nope,” she managed. “No other questions.” Eleven centuries of captivity. Hung on his hated enemy’s study wall. Eleven centuries of not touching. Not eating. Not loving. Had he had anyone to talk to? Her face must have betrayed her thoughts,… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share Image
“I can either be a victim—or a winner. Fuck victimhood. I don’t wear it well; it clashes with my wardrobe.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
Ancient eyes had stared at me, filled with ancient grief. And something more. Something so alien and unexpected that I'd almost burst into tears.… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
Some things are sacred. Until you act like they're not. Then you lose them — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
Sometimes, Ms. Lane," he said, "one must break with one's past to embrace one's future. It is never an easy thing to do. It… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
“I think I’m under control, that I’ve stripped away all weaknesses. That committing to my mission has made me impervious. I’m wrong. The thought… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it. Desire is life. Hunger to see the next sunrise or sunset, to touch… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
“Finally, someone had seen him. And what had he done? Let her get away. Undermined by his disgusting human anatomy. It had just been… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
“Our sex is fierce. We will both be bruised. "I want it to always be like this," I tell him. "Try holding onto that… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
Keep hoping to see the light in her eyes. Even knowing it'll mean she's saying good-bye. — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
Strength wasn‘t about being able to do everything alone. Strength was knowing when to ask for help and not being too proud to do… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
“He swapped the fistful of my shirt for one in my hair, and ground his mouth against mine.” — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
He’s so beautiful,” she said wistfully. “He’s like an angel.” “Yep,” I agreed flatly. “The one that fell. — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
And when he did that, my hands curled into fists because I thought about touching his face like maybe I could catch joy in… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
“Flattered as I am that you count me among the beautiful people, Barrons, allow me to point out that I’m still alive. I encountered… — Karen Marie Moning Copy Share
