Contemporary Er Romance Quotes

I was so in love with you that it hurt. ~ Kimberly Kincaid

INT. MINISTÈRE DES AFFAIRES MAGIQUES, RECORDS ROOM ATRIUM - NIGHT
MELUSINE: Puis-je vous aider?
NEWT: Er - yes, this is Leta Lestrange. And - I'm her -
TINA: Fiancé.
There is an increased awkwardness between them.
NEWT: Tina, about that fiancée business -
TINA (brittle): Sorry, yeah. I should have congratulated you -
The doors to the records office open. They enter briskly.

INT. MINISTÈRE DES AFFAIRES MAGIQUES, RECORDS ROOM - NIGHT
The doors close behind them, plunging them into darkness.
NEWT: No, that's -
TINA: Lumos.
NEWT: Tina - about Leta -
TINA: Yes, I've just said, I am happy for you -
NEWT: Yeah, well, don't.
She stops. Looks at him. What?
NEWT: Please don't be happy.
(in trouble) Uh, no, no. I'm sorry. I don't . . . Uh, obviously, I - Obviously I want you to be. And I hear that you are now. Uh, which is wonderful. Sorry -
(a gesture of hopelessness) What I'm trying to say is, I want you to be happy, but don't be happy that I'm happy, because I'm not.
(off her confusion) Happy.
(off her continued confusion) Or engaged.
TINA: What?
NEWT: It was a mistake in a stupid magazine. My brother's marrying Leta, June the sixth. I'm supposed to be best man. Which is sort of mildly hilarious.
TINA: Does he think you're here to win her back?
(beat)
Are you here to win her back?
NEWT: No! I'm here to -
A beat. He stares at her.
NE ~ J.K. Rowling

Do not mock my baby." He pulls away and strokes his palm over he seat. "She was my first love."
"Well your current ... er ... girl, is getting jealous with all the attention you're paying your first love, and she has orifices you can stick things in without having your boy bits burnt off."
He pulls me into him again and his mouth goes to work on my neck. "Fuck I love it when you talk dirty. ~ Carmen Jenner

We reduce everything into a how. There is a great how-to-ism all over the world, and every person, particularly the modern contemporary mind, has become a how-to-er: how to do this, how to do that, how to grow rich, how to be successful, how to influence people and win friends, how to meditate, even how to love. The day is not far off when some stupid guy is going to ask how to breathe. It is not a question of how at all. Don't reduce life into technology. Life reduced into technology loses all flavor of joy. ~ Osho

She led them to their pallets, again encircled by other pallets. She sat down, sighing at her aching muscles, and caught his gaze. "You may, er, wrap your arms around me if that will make you feel I am safer."
He chuckled--a hoarse chuckle, rusty, but a chuckle nonetheless. She'd take it.
"May I indeed?" He lay beside her and pulled her back against him, settling her head on his arm, bunching the other hide up to use as a pillow. "If I must." His warm sigh tickled across her neck. "After all, I must ensure that pinkie does not wander."
Would Robert never let her forget that? ~ Angela Quarles

Her pinkie took matters into its own, er, pinkie, and moved oh-so-slightly, grazing his skin. His pinkie, judging by the shape and texture.
Blood rushed and pounded through her veins, flushing her skin. This could not, in any way, be explained as an accidental touch. But he could feign sleep if he wasn't interested. Did she want him to do that?
What was she doing?
She commanded her pinkie to drop, and thankfully, it obeyed.
A jolt shot through her as his finger made a query, and the need clarified. The need represented her desire for some measure of control. Control over her general situation. Control over her attraction. She answered with a gentle finger stroke along his calloused, warm skin.
A sharp breath pierced the dark air. ~ Angela Quarles

Temperance Dews stood with quiet confidence, a respectable women who lived in the sewer that was St. Giles. Her eyes had widened at the sight of Lazarus, but she made no move to flee. Indeed, finding a strange man in her pathetic sitting room seemed not to frighten her at all.

Interesting.

"I am Lazarus Huntington, Lord Caire," he said.

"I know. What are you doing here?"

He tilted his head, studying her. She knew him, yet did not recoil in horror? Yes, she'd do quite well. "I've come to make a proposition to you, Mrs. Dews."

Still no sign of fear, though she eyed the doorway. "You've chosen the wrong woman, my lord. The night is late. Please leave my house."

No fear and no deference to his rank. An interesting woman indeed.

"My proposition is not, er, illicit in nature," he drawled. "In fact, it's quite respectable. Or nearly so."

She sighed, looked down at her tray, and then back up at him. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

He almost smiled. Tea? When had he last been offered something so very prosaic by a woman? He couldn't remember.

But he replied gravely enough. "Thank you, no."

She nodded. "Then if you don't mind?"

He waved a hand to indicate permission.

She set the tea tray on the wretched little table and sat on the padded footstool to pour herself a cup. He watched her. She was a monochromatic study. Her dress, bodice, hose, and s ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Another morning Diana and I sat together on the window seat in our second-floor living room, looking out at a chilly, gray November day. She cleared her throat gently and asked, "Mrs. Robertson, I wonder if I might ask your advice on something, since you're so much . . . er, older and . . . wiser, I mean." She said that her grandmother had suggested to Diana that she seek help from Buckingham Palace in dealing with the press. Diana did not tell me that her grandmother was Lady Ruth Fermoy, a lady-in-waiting to the Queen Mother. Diana wanted to use our telephone to discuss this further with her grandmother. In the meantime, "Do you think I should ask Charles for help, Mrs. Robertson?" She was quite calm and in control; she simply wanted another opinion.
I thought for a minute, then told her, "I wouldn't ask for help if I could possibly manage without it. If the palace thinks you can't handle the pressure now, they might think you couldn't handle it once you're part of the royal family. If you're serious about this romance, you should try to struggle along on your own." That conversation took place in early November on the day that the photograph of Diana pushing Patrick up the mews in his stroller was taken. It is my favorite photograph of the two of them because it reminds me of the trust she demonstrated that day.
I clearly recall thinking at that point, "This child needs a mother for guidance. ~ Mary Robertson

I'm not weird,' Elle said defensively.
'I mean in a good way. All the best people are.' He swallowed, as if he were thinking carefully. Elle saw he was a little bit drunk. 'You've got staying power. Like with the Georgette Heyers. Reading all of them, getting obsessive about them. And you know, much better to be obsessed with crummy romance books than, er - hard-core porn, or something. ~ Harriet Evans

She was going to get another glass of champagne, enjoy herself and get to know her new co-workers. The thought came to an abrupt halt as she opened the bedroom door and found Quinn leaning against the wall opposite her, almost casually. But she wasn't fooled by his stance.
Nothing about him was casual. Those muscular arms were crossed over his broad chest and there was an almost predatory gleam in those dark eyes. No, that look on his face couldn't be mistaken for anything but raw lust. ~ Katie Reus

It always makes me feel good about myself when I've dressed appropriately. It happens so rarely. ~ Eileen Rendahl

In a world where there is so much sadness and so much to be afraid of, good things do happen to people. Romance is still something we can find even if we're not consciously looking for it. ~ Kathleen Quinlan

Because one look into his eyes, and she was drowning in what existed there and didn't want to surface. ~ Katherine McIntyre

Her head started spinning, thinking about a date with Rhett O'Donnell.
I need to go fishing and clear my mind, she thought. I've always been in love with Tanner, and now Rhett is in the picture. I had trouble handling one secret cowboy. Two is one cowboy too many. ~ Carolyn Brown

Her body twitched from his magic. "What is this feeling?" She panted as she asked the question. Her body felt pleasantly soft. His motions slowed and became languid.
"It's called an orgasm," he replied in that slow, silky way of his. She loved his voice when it got thick like honey. Most of the time he spoke so quickly that she lost track. She liked it when his tone got deep and husky. "You should have one every time a man touches you. If you don't, punch him in the face. ~ Sophie Oak

He was looking down at her with an expression that said he wanted to kiss her. And then he did, his hands framing her face as she leaned against the fridge. The kiss was sweet but quickly turned hotter as she fed into it, wanting this as much as he did. Her response escalated his, and before she knew it, he was rubbing her bare arms while she was running her hand over his gorgeous biceps. ~ Terry Spear

You did it again," she declared breathlessly as he lowered her feet to the tile floor. "You made the earth move."
He shook his head with a wince. "Sorry about that."
"Don't apologize. I enjoyed it immensely. And now that I know making love with you could end the drought that has stricken the area, I think it my solemn duty to nail you as often as I can. ~ Dianne Duvall

Maybe that's why I write romance. I'm a dreamer at heart. If I can't have it in real life, I'll live it on paper instead. ~ Nicola Haken

Her inexperience demanding to be overturned intrigued him. She'd called him a gentleman. He was. When shown a door, he'd been taught to open it. ~ Elizabeth SaFleur

I guess I'm a hopeless case. No matter how much I try, his existence won't budge out of my mind. The only thing left for me to do is to focus on becoming a career woman, stay single for the rest of my life and go to my grave clutching a photo of his in my hand. ~ Kaoru Tada

She was afraid of giving in to that overwhelming, absolute, unconditional love, a love that had shown her the route to heaven, but which had also taught her how much one could suffer, to the point where even the sound of your own tears became deafening. ~ Mirella Muffarotto

Traveling can get kind of lonely sometimes, er… no, not traveling. What is the word? Life. Life can get kind of lonely. ~ John Mulaney

A brave girl! And a unique one. The best that I have ever met in my life. ~ Olga Goa

But if you wake up and are feeling....needy... ~ Terry Spear

I like the idea of not having a definition of love and romance. The greatest love stories have been about people who haven't come together. More stories like that need to be explored. ~ Nimrat Kaur

I always wondered. If…" Her mouth was on autopilot.
"If what, Ella?"
"If I crossed your mind wherever you were."
"You don't cross my mind, Ella. You live in it." He tugged her closer to him. ~ Elizabeth SaFleur

A demon's power comes from here," he said, placing his fingers on my temple. "Here." He moved his hand and placed his palm on my belly. "And here." His hand covered my heart, with way too much emphasis on my breast. I sucked in my breath on a gasp, causing my bosom to press into his hand even more. My eyes came up and locked with his.
"I think this is the part that stopped you from pushing me away," he said, referring to my heart ~ L.J. Kentowski

Sweetheart, for you, I'd share whatever you asked. ~ Samantha Chase

Well, for her hormones, apparently all it took was saving her life, an unexpected kiss, and hauling her off like some sort of wolf caveman, to turn her into an adventurous vixen. ~ Kait Ballenger

You don't need to live in a mansion to be happy. All you need is to create the right space, something that says this is who you are, and you can always change who you are, just as you change your environment. ~ Anthea Syrokou

Love can be so hauntingly beautiful, waking up past selves that have been wandering aimlessly through the corridors of our soul, for far too long. When someone else can take us from the ghost-town of our inner-selves, to exciting new landscapes, it's worth the risk, just to feel reborn. ~ Jaeda DeWalt

As much as any contemporary writer, Murakami grasps the bewildering fluidity of commoditized life. ~ Japan Foundation