What are you doing?” she cried in protest. “Playing,” he said, the single word rough, almost guttural. — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
I have a real low tolerance for parasites, and you're so close to the limit that I'm already reaching for the flea powder. — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
“amusement in her eyes and had to grin. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that excluded… — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
“It's daylight. Shouldn't you have burned to a crisp, or something? Don't you have to crawl into a coffin? Where do you keep it… — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
“Everything feels like the end of the world, and you can't reason with someone who can't see tomorrow.” — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
“What?” he demanded testily. Trammell raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.” “You’re thinking something, though. You’ve got that shit-eating smirk on your face.”… — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
God, I love you," he said, and laid his head on her belly, his arms locked around her hips. Madelyn slid her fingers into… — Linda Howard Copy Share Image
