Hoyt Fairliss Quotes

It then became intolerable that while I was not in any way interested in the world's affairs the world should have decided to interfere so spectacularly in mine. [ ... ] I am tired of offering my services as a smokescreen when there is a good chance of my being dismembered in the process and when I don't approve of what's being screened anyhow. ~ Bernard Wolfe

When I joined WKRC, they were very concerned over my ability to ad lib or speak extemporaneously, which was an unknown factor up until that point. ~ Waite Hoyt

Edward shot a glare at Davis that held the promise of dismemberment, mayhem, and the apocalypse. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

To fight demons, one must assume the guise of a demon ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Her brows had drawn together over those big eyes, in an expression that no doubt she thought stern, but that was, in reality, rather adorable. Like a small girl chiding a kitten. A streak of anger surged through him. She shouldn't be out by herself in the ruined garden. If he'd been another type of man - a brutal man, like the ones who'd run Bedlam - her dignity, perhaps even her life, might've been in danger. Didn't she have a husband, a brother, a father to keep her safe? Who was letting this slip of a woman wander into danger by herself? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Don't breed, don't buy, don't even accept giveaways. ~ John Hoyt

Miss Greaves drifted behind them, silent as a wraith. He had the most persistent urge to turn and confront her - make her say something to him. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Goggie!" she exclaimed, holding both hands out urgently to Lad, who'd been dozing by the fire.
"By all means," Michael replied amicably, as if he and Mary were having a conversation. "Let's bring the mutt with us, as well. He's almost presentable now that he stinks o' roses. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

They were already out of her lands, and in another day Yorkshire would be behind them altogether. By the end of the week she'd be in London, resuming her life as if this trip had never happened. Three or four months from now, Harry, acting as her land steward, might write to ask if she wanted him to present his report on her lands in person. And she, having just returned from another soiree, might turn the letter over in her hand and muse, Harry Pye. Why, I once lay in his arms. I looked up into his illuminated face as he joined his flesh with mine, and I was alive. She might toss the letter on her desk and think, But that was so long ago now and in a different place. Perhaps it was only a dream.
She might think that.
George closed her eyes. Somehow she knew that there would never come a day when Harry Pye was not her first memory when she woke and her last thought as she drifted into sleep. She would remember him all the days of her life.
Remember and regret. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

She was already in his palace, in his life. He couldn't go back
and wouldn't even if he could. She was so close to him now that it was as if he held her in his palm like a glowing ember
and gave thanks for the pain even as he inhaled the smoke from his burning flesh. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

You look pensive," he said quietly, holding his hand out from where he lay on the bed. He wore only his shirt and breeches. She went to him without protest. Why pretend when they really had so little time left together? He gathered her against him, her back to his front, and began plucking the pins from her coiffure. "Have I told you how much I admire your hair?" "It's just plain brown," she murmured. "Plain, lovely brown," he replied, raising a lock he'd freed to his face. "Are you smelling my hair?" she asked in amusement. "Yes." "Silly man," she said lightly. "Smitten man," he corrected, spreading her hair over her shoulders. "I've been watching you today." "In between escorting Miss Royle about the garden?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Yes. I'd rather it'd been you, but that wouldn't've been prudent." He frowned down at the strands of her hair caught between his fingers. "Or, perhaps, safe. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

He burst from the water. He was facing her now. The muscles bunched on his arms as he slicked his wet, shoulder-length hair back from his face. The mist swirled amber over the surface of the water, adorning his gleaming skin as if he were the tributary god of this ruined garden. Her pity evaporated, burned away by the sudden realization that she had it all wrong. He was ... She swallowed. Good Lord. He was magnificent. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

I pretty much started out writing full time. I was an at-home mom and when my youngest entered kindergarten, I started writing. I was 35, and before that I really hadn't written at all. Which means, I guess, that a) it's never too late to start a writing career (or any career you really want) and b) it's OK to get to your mid-30s and still not know what you want to be when you grow up. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Maude was still scowling. "What's wrong with him? Can't he talk?" "No, he can't," Indio said simply, saving Apollo from having to do his dumb show. "Oh." Maude blinked, obviously taken aback. "Has he had his tongue cut out?" "Maude!" Miss Stump cried. "What a horrible thought. He has a tongue." Her brows knit as if from sudden doubt and she peered worriedly at Apollo. "Don't you?" He didn't even bother resisting the urge. He stuck out his tongue at her. Indio laughed and Daffodil began barking again - obviously her first reaction to nearly everything. Miss Stump stared at Apollo for a long second and he was aware that his body was heating. Carefully he withdrew his tongue and snapped his mouth shut, giving her his most uncomprehending face. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Many young girls are ... becoming trained nurses,
whose gentle ministrations in the sick-room, skilled touch,
patient watchfulness and unwearied vigils,
are as great factors in the care of the sick,
as are the professional physicians. ~ Lydia Hoyt Farmer

Her breath caught on the thought. Was he saying that a woman would put her hands - her mouth - there?
Her bodice felt suddenly too tight as her breaths became faster. She didn't know where to look: at those long fingers massaging his own leg or his glinting, knowing green eyes.
"And of course," he continued, "a woman can pleasure herself - with her hand - and a man…" His hand drifted up, straight to the top of his widely spread legs. He gripped himself frankly - lewdly - and looked at her.
She lost all sense of propriety. All sense of place and time and who he was and who she was.
She stared back into those sensuous green eyes and whispered, "Show me. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Excuse me, but I believe you have my lady, one of them said in a quiet, deep voice that sent veritable chills down George's spine.
Harry. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

There is nothing like Ruth ever existed in this game of baseball. I remember we were playing the White Sox in Boston in 1919, and he hit a home run off Lefty Williams over the left-field fence in the ninth inning and won the game. It was majestic. It soared. ~ Waite Hoyt

She glanced again at Caliban as she said, "You and Daffodil were very brave." "And the best part, Mama," Indio said, tugging her hand to get her attention, "the best part is Caliban spoke. Did you hear him? He shouted my name!" "What?" Lily stared at Indio's filthy little face and then back up at Caliban. She absently noted that he had a bleeding scratch on his cheek. That shout right before the accident - had that been him? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Why did men think that saying something louder made it true? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Melisande blinked rapidly, then looked back to the little box with garnet earrings. Her ears weren't even pierced. She touched one of the garnets with a fingertip and wondered if he'd ever looked-really looked- at her at all. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

A smile flickered across Coral's face. "Have you ever noticed that once you have had a taste of certain sweets - raspberry trifle is my own despair - it is quite impossible not to think, not to want, not to crave until you have taken another bite?"
"Lord Swartingham is not a raspberry trifle."
"No, more of a dark chocolate mousse, I should think," Coral murmured.
"And," Anna continued as if she hadn't heard the interruption, "I don't need another bite, uh,night of him. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Lucy swayed in shock. A gust of wind moaned through the conservatory and blew out all but one of her candles. Simon must have done this. He'd destroyed his fairyland conservatory. Why? She sank to her knees, huddled on the cold floor, her one remaining
flame cradled in her numb palms. She'd seen how tenderly Simon had cared for his plants. Remembered the look of pride when she'd first discovered the dome and fountain. For him to have smashed all this ...
He must have lost hope. All hope. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

In Abigail's experience, women certainly loved their mothers, but there was always some kind of thing that lived between them. Envy? History? Hate? This thing, whatever it was, made girls gravitate toward their fathers. For his part, Hoyt Bentley had relished spoiling his only child. Beatrice, Abigail's mother, had resented the lost attention. Beautiful women did not like competition, even if it was from their own daughters. ~ Karin Slaughter

waiting for you is the hardest part. ~ Laura Hoyt

It hardly mattered. She was tired of waiting for him to acknowledge who he was. Tired of donning a false mask of gaiety when she was so much more - felt so much more - beneath. No one had ever noticed her mask. No one but him. If he couldn't or wouldn't make the first move, then damn it, she would. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

He built a tower to try and be closer to her and walled himself inside."
She stared at him for a moment as if waiting for something. "And?"
He glanced at her, puzzled. "And, what?"
She widened her eyes. "How does the story end? Did the sorcerer win his Moon Maiden?"
"Of course not," he said irritably. "She lived on the moon and was quite unattainable. I suppose he must've starved or pined away or fallen off the wall at some point. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

I need you." He licked her bruised lip to soothe it. "I can't think straight without you. My world is all turned around, and I go through it in pain, wanting to hurt someone. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

She stood in profile across the green, her back straight, her stance that of some long ago warrior maiden. As he walked toward her, Miss Greaves drew back her bow briskly, aiming a tad high to account for the wind, and let her arrow fly. Before it had hit the target, she'd notched another and shot it. A third followed just as rapidly. He glanced to the target. All three of her arrows were clustered together at the center of the red circle. Miss Greaves, who "did not shoot," was a better shot than all the other ladies - and probably the men as well. He glanced from the target to her and saw that she stared back, proud and unsmiling. Artemis. She was named for the goddess of the hunt - a goddess who had slain without remorse her only admirer. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

What," she barked, "is that?" "We have a guest for supper tonight," Miss Stump replied, and as she glanced back at him he thought he saw a mischievous glint in her eye. "Indio's monster, in fact - though Indio now calls him Caliban." "Caliban?" Maude narrowed her eyes, cocking her head as she examined him critically. "Aye, I can see that, but is he safe in the theater with us is what I'm wanting to know?" Apollo felt a tug on his hand. He looked down at Indio, who whispered, "She's nice. Truly. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

She swallowed, watching as the servants and Harry and Bert trooped out of the room. Lad, apparently not the brightest dog in the world, sat down next to Mickey O'Connor and leaned against his leg.
Mr. O'Connor looked at the dog, looked at the damp spot growing on his breeches where the dog was leaning, and sighed. "I find me life is not as quiet as it used to be afore ye came to me palace, Mrs. Hollingbrook."
Silence lifted her chin. "You're a pirate, Mr. O'Connor. I cannot believe your life was ever very quiet."
He gave her an ironic look. "Aye, amazin', isn't it? Yet since yer arrival me servants no longer obey me and I return home to find me kitchen flooded." He crossed to a cupboard and took down a china teapot, a tin of tea, and a teacup. "And me dog smells like a whorehouse."
Silence glanced guiltily at Lad. "The only soap we could find was rose scented. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

What of the Parliament? Or the succession of the marquessate?"

"Don't you see?" He shook his head, searching for the words, he who was known for his eloquence on the floor of the House of Lords. "None of that matters. Without you, I am a shadow of a man, a wisp. Parliament, even the marquessate, can survive without me, but I cannot survive without you. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Where are we going?" she asked.

"Mr. Durbin's sheep have begun to lamb, and I wanted to see how the ewes are doing." He cleared his throat. "I suppose I should have told you about today's outing earlier."

Anna kept her eyes straight ahead and made a noncommittal sound.

He coughed. "I might've, had you not left so precipitously yesterday afternoon."

She arched a brow but did not reply.

There was a lengthy lull broken only by the dog's eager yelp as he flushed a rabbit from the hedge along the lane.

Then the earl tried again. "I've heard some people say my temper is rather . . ." He paused, apparently searching for a word.

Anna helped him. "Savage?"

He squinted at her.

"Ferocious?"

He frowned and opened his mouth.

She was quicker. "Barbaric?"

He cut her off before she could add to her list. "Yes, well, let us simply say that it intimidates some people." He hesitated. "I wouldn't want to intimidate you, Mrs. Wren."

"You don't. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

A giant black beast came rushing up to her, the sound of hoofbeats thundering in her ears. She cowered, waiting to be trampled, but instead strong arms reached down and seized her, sweeping her up.
"I have you now, my Séraphine," growled the Duke of Montgomery in her ear. "Did you really think I wouldn't come for you? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

The end of his vicious rant ended in a satisfying squawk as Apollo backhanded him. The other man staggered and fell on his arse. "No, don't hurt him!" Lily cried, and Apollo hated to think she cared for this man. "I won't," he assured her in a level tone. He stared at the sputtering rogue for a moment and made up his mind. "But neither will I ... stand by while he ... abuses you." So saying, he picked up the man and tossed him over his shoulder. "Wait here." The man made a sort of moan and Apollo hoped he wouldn't toss his accounts down his back. He'd bathed and changed into a fairly clean shirt before coming to see Lily. Pivoting, he marched toward the dock, the man still over his shoulder. "Caliban!" He ignored her calls. He didn't really care who this ass was - as long as he was nowhere near Lily or Indio. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

I watched you for years," she whispered. The tears were drying on her cheeks, and heat was building within her. If he would just touch her. Touch her there. "I watched you and you never saw me. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

One," he said, ticking points off on his fingers. "You are no longer a whore. Two, you wore a mask, you little idiot
no one will recognize you if you don't tell them your past. Three, I love you. Four, you love me. Five"
he tapped his thumb against his chin
"well, I really don't have a fifth reason, but I should think the first four are sufficient. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Father Lenar Hoyt stepped away from the wall where he had been leaning, raised his right hand with thumb and little finger touching, three fingers raised, the gesture somehow including himself as well as those before him, and said softly, 'Ego te absolvo. ~ Dan Simmons

Do you remember that I said I have something to show you?"
Back when they were entering the house. Before she'd seen Hugh. Before their argument. "Yes?"
He pushed open the door to her bedroom. "Look."
She went inside and saw Valente sitting on the floor in front of her fireplace with a basket. He had a silly grin on his face.
She glanced over her shoulder to Raphael. "What-?"
Her husband tilted his chin toward Valente and the basket. "Go and see."
At the same time she heard an animal whimper.
Her lips parted and she picked up her skirts to hurry to the basket. It was lined with a soft blanket and inside was the sweetest little blond puppy, looking very sorry for itself.
Iris stared, torn. Did Raphael think a 'puppy' would be an adequate substitution for him?
The moment the puppy saw her it began whimpering and yipping, trying to climb from its wicker prison, but its legs were too short to make the attempt and it ended by falling backward, revealing that it was female.
It was hardly the puppy's fault that she was angry with Raphael.
"Oh," Iris breathed, sinking to her knees on the carpet opposite Valente. "She's perfect."
Somehow the words made tears start in her eyes again.
She picked up the puppy, which wriggled in Iris's hands until she held the small animal against her chest. The puppy promptly began licking Iris's chin with a tiny pink tongue.
Iris looked up at Raphael through her tears. "What is her ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

I won't marry you," she repeated.
"Why not? You were eager enough to fuck me."
Anna winced. "I do wish you would stop using that word."
Edward swung around and assumed a hideously sarcastic expression. "Would you prefer swive? Tup? Dance the buttock jig? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Silence rose and crossed to the connecting door and knocked.

The door was opened almost at once.

Michael leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, a wicked smile playing about his sensuous lips. He was so very big this close - every time it surprised her and made her breathless. "Well, now, and when did ye decide to start knockin' at me door?"

Silence fought to keep her face from flaming as she remembered the last time she'd peeked through Michael's door.

She swallowed. "We're bored."

"Is that so?" Michael glanced down.

Silence followed his gaze and saw that Mary had crawled over to investigate. The baby grabbed a handful of her skirt and stood up. She kept one hand on Silence's skirt and popped two fingers from the other into her mouth as she stared solemnly at Michael.

"She looks a rare treat," Michael said softly, watching the toddler.

Silence smiled down at Mary. "She does indeed."

She glanced up and her heart squeezed at the gentle look on Michael's face.

As if she understood she was the subject of conversation, Mary lifted her arms - to Michael. "Up!"

Michael arched an eyebrow. "Mouthy little thing, ain't she?"

But he bent and lifted the toddler. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others. Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Well, Scarborough cares, doesn't he? Maximus doesn't - not really. No doubt he's a bit compelled by the chase, but if he doesn't win" - she shrugged her shoulders - "he'll simply find another suitable heiress. She - Lady Penelope herself - doesn't really matter to him. And if it comes right down to it, wouldn't you chose passion - however old - over dispassion? ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

He took a deep breath and wished irritably that she would call him by his given name. He longed to hear her say Edward. But no. It would be highly inappropriate for her to call him by his Christian name. He gathered his scattered thoughts. "We should return to work." He stood and strode from the room, feeling as if he were fleeing fire-breathing monsters rather than one plain little widow. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Indio started forward and took the big man's hand as naturally as he'd taken his mother's. Come on! Maude's making roast chicken and there'll be gravy and dumplings. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

Sir?"
"Yes"
"Where do you go at night?"
Winter paused and glanced over his shoulder. Joseph was watching him with perceptive eyes for one so young.
In that instant, Winter grew tired of lies. "I right wrongs."
He expect more questions
Joseph was usually full of them and his answer was too obscure
but the boy merely nodded. "Will you teach me how sometime?"
Winter's eyes widened. Teach him to ... ? His mind instantly balked at the thought of putting Joseph in danger. But were he ever to ask for an apprentice to his Ghost, he knew instinctively that he could find no one with more courage than the lad. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt