Christina Dodd Quotes

So while I can spin my fantasy whenever I wish, I'm afraid you wouldn't do for me."
Sarcasm dripped from her every word. "You're good at imagining, so pray imagine my heartbreak.

She heard nothing but experienced a sensation that prickled along her spine like a warm touch caressing her skin. Slowly, with the care of prey beneath a predator's survey, she turned her head- and met the gaze of the elegant gentleman lounging at the door.
In her travels, she had seen many a striking and charming man, but none had been as handsome as this- and all had been more charming. This man was a statue in stark black and white, hewn from rugged granite and adolescent dreams. His face wasn't really handsome; his nose was thin and crooked, his eyes heavy lidded, his cheekbones broad, stark and hollowed. But he wielded a quality of power, of toughness, that made Eleanor want to huddle into a shivering, cowardly little ball.
Then he smiled, and she caught her breath in awe. His mouth... his glorious, sensual mouth. His lips were wide, too wide, and broad, too broad. His teeth were white, clean, strong as a wolf's. He looked like a man seldom amused by life, but he was amused by her, and she realized in a rush of mortification that she remained standing on the stool, reading one of his books and lost to the grave realities of her situation. The reality that stated she was an imposter, sent to mollify this man until the real duchess could arrive.
Mollify? Him? Not likely. Nothing would mollify him. Nothing except... well, whatever it was he wanted. And she wasn't fool enough to think she knew what that was.
The immediate reality was that she would someho

In the top drawer of my bedside table, there's a small box. It contains everything we need to make our night pleasurable. If you have to, leave everything else behind but bring that box."
She snorted as if in derision - but it was a weak snort. She walked toward the steps again.
"Amy."
She turned back to him. "What?"
"Did you notice I didn't ask for a nightshirt?"
She glanced at his lit in her hand and wondered why he told her that.
Then she knew why.
He had just told her he slept nude.
Every night in the cellar right beneath her bedchamber, his naked body remained at the ready to welcome her. Now that she knew it, she could never escape the image ... or the temptation.

Fate Marches on, demanding we find our destinies

I was out on a lonely road that stretched forever into the darkness. I wanted to run, to get away from him, but it was so dark, I was afraid of where I was going.

Are you a man?' The question slipped out, and she regretted it. Regretted injecting reality into this delicate, lovely dream of passion. 'I thought I had conclusively proved my manhood to you. Shall I do it again?

Because late night, when I made you mine - "
"Shush. You didn't!"
"All right. Last night when you made me yours - "
She definitely heard Pom snort.

If ye canna see the bright side o' life, polish the dull side

Why had she imagined he was attractive? He was absolutely the biggest, most complete and utter jackass she'd ever had the bad fortune to meet.

I'm sorry about the screaming. I thought you were him.

Honesty shakes the foundation of civilization.

I thought society would do the right thing. Now I look around and I think
society never does the right thing. Sometimes people do the right thing. Sometimes one person makes a difference. But civilization has rules, and I've learned them well
never be helpless, never be sick, never be poor.

I didn't burn down anyone's house! I didn't. I wouldn't!"

Maddie looked at Jacob.

"You know I wouldn't. I didn't kill you when I had the chance!

You are my wife. You fulfill my every dream. Nothing you do can send me away. Even if you'd been raped, I would not abandon you." Recalling her mission, she said, "But you must. The king - " "Does very well without me." "The queen - " "Will come to see me if she desires." "England - " "Can sink below the waves. As long as I'm with you, I won't care.

Amy tossed in her bed, then froze as she heard Northcliff's voice in her head. Do you know that when you rise in the morning, I hear your footsteps over my head? I imagine you slipping out of a worn nightgown, your body gleaming pale and sweet, and donning one of your ghastly gowns. At night, the floorboards creak as you ready yourself for bed, and I imagine you undressing. And all night long, every time you turn over in your virgin bed, I hear you. You have me imprisoned, but I am watching you.
A shiver ran up her spine at the memory of Northcliff's words, but it wasn't fear. It was desire. She wanted to rise from her bed and go to him. She wanted to see him. Not just his face or the expanse of his chest, but all of him. Because while he said he had been imagining her, she had also been imagining him.
In a motion so slow and cautious her ancient straw-stuffed mattress made no noise, Amy sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees.
Northcliff was awake below. She knew it; she could feel his unswerving attention, the waves of his will beckoning her to him.

Yes, I'm a man and everyone knows men are great hairy beasts scarcely tamed by civilization
-Jermyn, Duke of Northcliff to Amy, Princess Beaumontaigne

The haunted always take refuge in stillness.

If Amy had one ounce of romance in her soul, she would be sighing with gratification. Instead, she said acerbically, "All that's missing is the love poem."
Jermyn deposited her in a chair by the table. "I'll order a pen and ink for you.

He who lies down with dogs shall rise with fleas

When she thought of how Lord Northcliff was ruining the life of a poor, sweet, old lady, she wanted to shriek with frustration. She wanted to shake him until he saw sense. She wanted to . . . she wanted to arrange a carriage accident that would finish him off.

Let her go or I'll shoot you."
"I've never met a woman who'd have the guts to shoot a man," he sneered. All the women he knew were too kind. Too gentle.
"I have the guts," the girl said. "Better yet, I want to shoot you."
That shook him. The words, and the tone, a kind of flat, plain aversion the like of which he'd never met in all of his privileged life. What had he ever done to deserve this girl's contempt? And why did he even care? "Which part of me will you shoot?" he mocked. "All that's showing is my head - and you can't be that good with a gun."
"I am," the girl said. "On the count of three, I'll shoot. One . . ."
"You'd take the chance of hurting Miss Victorine?" he asked.
"I won't hurt her. Two . . ."
"Amy, please, let him go!" Miss Victorine begged. "He was such a sweet boy."
"Three." Amy's eyes narrowed. Her finger began to squeeze the trigger.
And he released Miss Victorine, spinning her away from him and into a cabinet.
She landed with a thud and fell. The pistol roared.
He dived to the floor.
A shot whistled past the place where his head had been.
"Damn, that was close. Good thing you surrendered, my lord!"
"Don't swear, dear, it's not ladylike.

I do care about real life. It's just not as interesting as what's in my books.

Women always said he was warm. They snuggled with him in bed, grateful for the heat. A couple of his lovers even claimed that, when he was inside them, he heated them from the inside out.
A pleasant flattery, perhaps, but one Hope would discover the truth of. For when she touched him, he did burn.

Pamela Palmer's stories catch you, captivate you, and never let you go.

Only those who row the boat make waves

She wished she hadn't succumbed to irritation. Because she wanted to know about his inner feelings. She always thought people were like pieces of art glass
strong enough to handle and use, delicate enough to shatter under a strong blow, and filled with swirls of color that fascinated the eye. But while most people
and most glass
allowed light through, she could discern nothing of Devlin's heart and soul through the smoke and mirrors he held before him.

Miss Prendregast!" He rapped on his desk with his knuckles. "You were never in any danger!"
"Except from the wild animals."
His lids swept down as if he needed a reprieve from looking at her. "Alert me if you're attacked by a rabbit.

Great minds think alike-especially when they are female.

So you know you're a ghost?"
I looked at my hands; they were transparent and glowed faintly. "Can you think of another explanation?

I have never seen an unclad male form in my life, and I haven't suffered for the lack."
"By an extraordinary coincidence, I haven't seen an unclad male form in my life, either. I'd say it's time to remedy the situation." Tugging his shirt open, Amy peered down at his chest.
"We can't look at him when he's unconscious! It's . . . it's immoral." Miss Victorine fanned herself with her handkerchief.
Coal watched the white cotton as if contemplating if it would shred.
"Dear Miss Victorine, we abducted him from his own estate. I hardly think sneaking a peek at his chest compares." Letting his shirt drop back, Amy added, "Besides, we looked at his face."
"That's different." Miss Victorine leaned closer. "What color is it?"
"What color is what?" Amy teased.
"You know. The hair on his body."
Amy flashed her a grin. "Red."
"Appropriate," Miss Victorine said crisply.
"Why do you say that?"
"You're gazing upon the gateway to hell."
"I don't think I looked that far," Amy said reflectively.

The pain of the constant, bone-chilling loneliness she'd accustomed herself to. And learned to live with it.

With well-feigned impatience, he asked, "Don't you recognize a man who's urgently trying to impress his woman with his good deeds?"
"No, is that what you're doing?"
"Most definitely." He did kiss her, but only a swift brush of his lips, a tease that made her want for more. "Although I suspect it has lost its impact since I had to point it out.

What a delight you are! Blessed with the ripe sweetness of a woman, yet as green and untutored as any girl." He made her sound, she realized with bemusement, as charming and pleasing with her cowardice as any courtesan with her wiles.

You really owe me a lot for locking you up. It's improved your character immensely."
She didn't giggle well. It wasn't in her character and it showed him only too clearly the fight he had ahead to keep her with him. He smiled as she wished him to do and said, "I'll give you what's coming to you. Don't worry about that.

They hit a pothole deep enough to make her teeth snap together, and she burst out, This road reminds me of my life. It's going somewhere familiar, but every time I look up, there's a new obstacle to jump, another hole to fall in.

Elizabeth understood as she never had before. Everyone, all of them had lived secure in the belief that the earth was stable, unchanging, eternal.
Now no one could trust the ground beneath their feet.
Yes, the earthquake was the story of destruction, but not just of things. An earthquake destroyed security. It destroyed complacency. It changed the people who lived through it.

Because I want every breath you take to be empty unless you're close enough to smell me. Every word you speak to be unimportant unless it's to me. Every sound you hear empty unless it's my voice. I want you to remember that whatever pleasure you have from now on, you'll have it from me.
~Rurik Wilder~

I intend to marry Michael, and squander all his money and run his life, and make sure he never again consorts with wicked women or gambles with licentious men. I promise I will henpeck him until he has no life beyond what I allow him, and when we die, I will lie in his arms through all eternity.

I've been a foul-mouthed knave." "Well, I don't know." "A beetle-headed malfeasor." "Nothing so - " "A base, proud tottyhead." He paused, but she said nothing. "Aren't you going to object?" "No," she drawled the word. "Humility is so refreshing in a man.

Areila walked like she had somewhere to go. I stood by the fountain and watched her pass, but I didn't speak. It was the lady's prerogative to pretend she didn't see me. She got to the edge of the park; I swear, her foot hovered right over the line, when she turned with military precision and marched back. She stopped in front of me and said, Hello.

And you're prickly enough about being young."
She was amusing him.
"More than ever, I feel as if I've robbed the cradle."
But she knew how to puncture his mirth. "You are very old," she agreed demurely.
He pushed her backward onto the grass.
She laughed and fought him. Within minutes he had her arms trapped over her head, and he kissed her while the world whirled around them. "I win!" he said against her lips.
"Only because you used brute force."
"It's better than drugs in a glass of wine," he retorted.
"You would think so, since you hold the brute force."
He grinned down at her. "But I did win."
"Yes, yes, you won." She dismissed his boasting as if it were of no consequence. "Are you ever going to forget that stupid manacle?"
"No, I think I'll be bringing it up at inconvenient moments for the rest of our lives."
At his ill-thought-out words, they both froze, their eyes wide with shock.
The rest of their lives?
Their gazes shifted away from each other.

When at last he could lift his head, he asked, "What have you done?"
"What have I done?" She lifted a mocking brow. "Why, I've kidnapped the marquees of Northcliff."
"You dare to admit it?" Inch by painful inch, he dragged himself onto the cot.
"Admitting to it is the least of my sins. I did it.

When I break a rock open with my pick, I'm a prophet. I see the past. I see the future. I know where the world is going, and where it's been. And I always, always want to know more.

All I wanted was a man who could love and who loved me, who I could share my secrets with and know his.

Everyone thinks you're so strong and self-confident, but inside you're a frightened child, waiting to suffer betrayal again from those who should love you most.

With great care, Amy opened the cellar door.
With ladylike demeanor, she descended the stairs. And as her reward, she had the satisfaction of catching His Mighty Lordship sitting on the cot, his knee crooked sideways and his ankle pulled toward him, cursing at the manacle.
"I got it out of your own castle," she said.
Northcliff jumped like a lad caught at a mischief. "My . . . castle?" At once he realized what she meant. "Here on the island, you mean. The old ancestral pile."
"Yes." She strolled farther into the room. "I went down into the dungeons, crawled around in among the spider webs and the skeleton of your family's enemies - "
"Oh, come on." He straightened his leg. "There aren't any skeletons."
"No," she admitted.
"We had them removed years ago."
For one instant, she was shocked. So his family had been ruthless murderers! Then she realized he was smirking. The big, pompous jackass was making a jest of her labors. "If I could have found manacles that were in good shape I'd have locked both your legs to the wall."
"Why stop there? Why not my hands, too?" He moved his leg to make the chain clink loudly. "Think of your satisfaction at the image of my starving, naked body chained to the cold stone - "
"Starving?" She cast a knowledgeable eye at the empty breakfast tray, then allowed her lips to curve into a sarcastic smile.
"You'd love a look at my naked body, though, wouldn't you?" He fixed his gaze on her, and for on

Family of friends, people she knows only by their voices. She especially likes Griswald, gruff old butler for wealthy Zack Givens. Meeting Griswald is a shock; he is neither gruff nor old, but a powerful, handsome man. In fact, he is Zack Givens, cold, heartless - and charmed by the artless young woman who brings him chicken soup, treats him like a friend ... and falls in love with the humble man she imagines him to be. Inevitably, she will face his betrayal. Then

If our legal counsel, Bob Rutherford, works for Satan, Satan should buy Bob a better toupee.

Caleb came to his mother's side and helped her to her feet. "Besides, if you rest, then I am free to make love to Jacqueline."
"Caleb!" Jacqueline had been worried she would say the wrong thing. Instead, Caleb had put his foot in it.
But obviously all the cliches she'd ever heard about Italian sons were true. He really could do no wrong, for Mrs. D'Angelo shook her finger at him
but she said indulgently, "You are incorrigible."
"Ma, I'm just trying to get going on those grandchildren you want.

If you cannot see the bright side of life, polish the dull side.

Saura nodded, bemused by the code of ethics that allowed for murder and kidnapping but balked at a lady touching a lord outside of the state of wedlock.

We're lucky." He slipped his hand around her waist and splayed it in the small of her back. "Most couples have only one first kiss. We'll have two.

For as long as I could remember, I had always been the girl who had watched her father kill her mother.

Oh, God. Not again."

Not again?

"Do you make a habit of driving into people's houses?

Logic is overrated and superfluous when it comes to love.

The way to fight a woman is with your hat. Grab it and run.
The guy who said that was a wise man. He knew what most men don't - Women are powerful creatures who should be handled with care, or they can become very, very dangerous.

Archaeologist, adventurer - I saw the Indiana Jones movies. They are the same.

I would. I could stand on my feet without you." "And the tide would still go out without my pushing it. The spring will still melt the snow without my warm breath nagging it. You're a person, all on your own, with hopes and thoughts and dreams completely separate from mine. Do you think I want a woman who needs to lean on me to be complete? I don't, dearling, I want only you, as whole and self-sufficient and tender as you are. I want to know that if I die tomorrow, you can support my father's grief and raise my son to manhood.

Don't just aim high, reach it and grab some happiness along the way.

The more I know you, the more I wonder who you are." He counted off her qualities on his fingers. "You have the accent of a lady. You dress like a peasant. You shoot like a marksman. You view the world cynically, yet you venerate Miss Victorine. Your face and body would be the envy of a young goddess, yet you sport an air of innocence. And that innocence hides a criminal mind and the cheek to pull off the most outrageous of felonies."
"So I'm Athena, the goddess of war."
"Definitely not Diana, the goddess of virginity."
As the last shot hit home, he saw Amy's mask slip. Blood rushed to her face. She bit her lip and looked toward the stairs as if only now realizing she could have - should have - left this whole discussion behind.
He laughed softly, triumphantly. "Or perhaps I'm mistaken. Perhaps you have more in common with Diana than I thought."
"Pray remember, sir, that Diana was also the goddess of the hunt." Amy leaned across the table, intent on making her point - but the blush still played across her cheeks. "She carried a bow and arrow, and she always bagged her quarry. Have a look at the bullet hole in the rock behind you and remember my skill and my cynicism. For we do know things about each other. I know that if you escape, you'll make sure I'm hung from a gibbet. You know that if I catch you escaping, I'll shoot you through the heart. Remember that as you cast longing glances toward the window." With a flourish, she picked up the breakfast t

No matter how they fought they had always been like this: balanced between anger and passion, between hurt and glory.
When they first got together, she didn't understand how two people who had so little in common could be so madly, passionately in love.
When they split, she had realized madness and passion could never keep a couple together.

Why do we have to go to Summerwind Abbey tonight? Why couldn't we have waited until I at least combed the sand out of my hair? She heard the whine in her voice and realized she'd been reduced to petulance. With any luck at all, she'd become a nag and make Jermyn a dreadful wife.

It was like living with a bad action movie, all excitement and motion, and no character development.

I've been dead over seventy years and still when I hear a woman scream, I find myself standing, listening, wanting to help and unable to do anything except watch.