Rarely does a complete idea come to me. I basically start with just a small scene or a snatch of dialogue and force myself to write and to keep writing. Sometimes it becomes a book. — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“The intensity of his expression caused her to tentatively ask, “What?” “I’ve never been a big fan of the missionary position.” Not quite sure… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
'Slow Heat in Heaven' was my 'breakout' or 'crossover' book, and I loved the freedom I felt writing it. — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
People don't care how smart woman is as long as she's charming and gay and pretty. — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“Ella almost cried out in relief upon seeing him. Conrad released her hand and spun around to see who’d interrupted his bullying. “Afternoon,” — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“Don’t be afraid of loving this man, Maria had told her. Don’t be afraid. Her slender fingers closed around the warm shaft with its… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“Whatever else you were about to say, don't. Don't look at me all calf-eyed. Don't nurse any romantic options about me just because I… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
I try to weave a secret into each plot. It's the thread that holds the rest of the story fabric together. In fact, it's… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“That all any of us has to give is our best. if we do that. we succeed, no matter what the outcome.” — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“...He called up the numbness with which he armed himself to get through each day.” — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“Love was a word that poets and songwriters used. They vested the emotion with tremendous powers over the human heart and mind, but they… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
Even knowing the ending was sad, I wouldn't have deprived myself the beauty of the story. — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“her top and into the elastic waistband of the baggy pants. He lightly ground the heel of his” — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
“Her fingers dug into the flesh of his hips as his own passion peaked. His face was buried in her neck and her skin… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
Moving between her thighs, he stretched out above her, then thrust into her. Once. Because, as he did everything, he acted without hesitation or… — Sandra Brown Copy Share Image
