Quotes About Scottish Historical Author
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Ciaran broke the silence and spoke quietly. "She means naught to me."
A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away. "It doesnae matter--truly," she whispered.
He reached out and gently brushed her arms. When she closed her eyes to avoid his probing gaze, he raised her chin with his finger. "It matters to me," he said solemnly. He wiped her tears with his thumb. "I told her we were done when I returned to Glenorchy. She wasnae pleased. I didnae know she was there, Rosalia. She saw ye and Aisling and threw her body upon me."
She could not help but smirk. "Her verra bare body, my laird."
He paused for a moment, a spark of some identifiable emotion in his eyes. "I didnae notice, Rosalia. All I saw was ye. ~ Victoria Roberts
At the back of my mind I wanted to be a journalist when I grew up since I didn't seem to be getting any better at goalkeeping. ~ Ian Colquhoun
No man returns from Satan's fire read to dance a reel. ~ Amy Jarecki
Her face grew suddenly serious as she cupped his cheek in her palm. "Oh how I love you, William." The angel had spoken.
He closed his eyes and let her words seep into his soul. ~ Amy Jarecki
He didn't save women. He damned them. ~ Madeline Martin
Antanas eased up on the accelerator and pulled the truck onto the shoulder. The sound of the soldiers' footsteps crunching in the snow made Maria sit up straight. The truck had driven about thirty metres past the patrol, but none of the soldiers had fired upon them. Antanas hoped fervently that the transport documents that Peter had furnished him would pass inspection. Maria reached down and touched a metal pipe concealed beneath her seat. She was prepared to use it.
Jadwyga continued to pray quietly. "Mother Mary, spare me, Maria, and the other women from rape, and Antanas from death."
As a sergeant approached the truck, Jadwyga's stomach cramped, sweat broke out on her forehead, and her arms began to shake. Then she fainted. Maria propped Jadwyga up to make it look as though she was sleeping, and then smiled at the sergeant who was rapping on the glass.
Antanas rolled down his window. ~ Mark Creedon
Rory did not want her.
After devoting so much effort to avoid being wed to a man she did not want, she found herself bound to a man who did not want her. ~ Margaret Mallory
She opened her eyes and touched her lips, as though he had just kissed them. She could taste him. ~ Jean M. Grant
A laconic and highly entertaining" novel. "The characters are strong, each showing major evidence of being a product of their respective cultures. Overall, the story is a strong one, with a couple of well-executed twists that succeed in surprising the reader."
- Publishers Weekly judge for the 2014 ABNA Contest, Two Brides for Ewan de Buchan
"I love historical romance novels and this one right off the bat based on the plot/hook made me want to read more. I devoured this...and re-read it twice. It seems like the author has a very good handle on the time period in which this novel is set."
- 2014 ABNA Contest judge, Two Brides for Ewan de Buchan
"I think this is really well crafted and interesting. The plot/hook caught me from the first paragraph. The characters are well done and I really loved the novelist's attention to historical detail...It's a really great romance novel, and is of publication quality. This novelist has a real future in writing romance (or even general fiction) books."
- 2014 ABNA Contest judge, Two Brides for Ewan de Buchan ~ E. Elizabeth Watson
She moved her hips, his manhood sliding between her wet thighs, rekindling the hot craving at her very core. "How can I bring you pleasure? ~ Amy Jarecki
No more sounds emerged as he walked through the forest, save the whisper of the leaves above. Though nothing further appeared out of the ordinary, he knew one thing for certain.
He was not alone. ~ Madeline Martin
Loyalty is everything to him," Robbie said. "He expected ye to trust him, to believe in him, without requiring an explanation." She had failed David, and he could not forgive her. ~ Margaret Mallory
Geordie stepped forward and took her hand. "I hope you're not tired, because I intend to keep you on my arm until the music stops. ~ Amy Jarecki
I-I've wanted you ever since..." She untied the sash around her waist and let the dressing gown drop to the floor.
God save him, she wore not a stitch of clothing. Every shred of self-control fled. His mind consumed with the tantalizing woman before him. Somehow she was even more beautiful now that he'd remembered. The candlelight flickered amber across her skin. Chestnut tresses slid over her shoulder, framing two perfectly formed breasts, tipped by rose.
Sean licked his lips, those delectable rosebuds would be his second stop. In two strides, he wrapped her in his arms and crushed his body against hers. "For all that is holy, you have claimed my soul, my flesh and my mind. ~ Amy Jarecki
The thing about being a mystery writer, what marks a mystery writer out from a chick lit author or historical fiction writer, is that you always find a mystery in every situation. ~ Tana French
Unbridled passion with an incredibly hot seven hundred-year-old Highlander in the middle of the night? Mm Yeah. Bring it on. ~ Amy Jarecki
She clambered to the shoreline. Numb and shaken, she began to dress. It wasn't easy as she fumbled with slick fingers to put dry clothes over wet skin. She instantly regretted her naked swim. She pulled on her long-sleeved white chemise first.
She faced the forest, away from her rescuer. He quietly splashed to shore. His lifeblood burned into her back. He wasn't far behind, but he stopped. She refused to look at him until she was fully clothed, not out of embarrassment of her nudity, but for what had just happened. He released a groan and mumbled under his breath about wet boots. His voice was not one of her father's soldiers.
When she put the last garment on, her brown wool work kirtle, she squeezed out her sopping hair and swept her hands through the knotty mess. She fastened her belt and tied the lacings up the front of the kirtle. Blood returned to her fingertips, and she regained her composure. Belated awareness struck her, and she leaned down and searched through her bag for her dagger. She spun around.
She gasped as she saw the man sitting on the stone-covered shoreline, his wet boots off. Confusion and the hint of a scowl filled his strong-featured face. She staggered back, caught her heel on a stone, and fell, dropping the dagger. Dirt and pebbles stuck to her wet hands and feet, and she instinctively scrambled away from him.
His glower, iridescent dark blue eyes, and disheveled black hair were not unfamiliar. Staring at her was the man she had se ~ Jean M. Grant
No, I will not join your Civil War reenactment troupe. ~ Aaron A.A. Smith
Promise me ye'll be careful."
"I'll gladly do that." A hand moved to her nape, a finger tickling the side of her neck. "Ye ken why?" he asked with a devilish grin.
"No." Her tongue grew dry.
His gaze dipped to her mouth. "'Cause ye still love me, lass." With one step in, his chest lightly brushed the tips of her breasts as he lowered his lips to hers. She caught a drift of his scent, part leather, part iron, part musk and entirely intoxicating male. With a rush of heat between her legs, Eva could no sooner resist him than to say no to warm double-chocolate-fudge-melting cake. The deep rumble of his sigh made tingles spread through the tips of her fingers as he deepened the pressure with soft, demanding lips ~ Amy Jarecki
Buchan had discovered a wealth of small tidbits. He now knew her first name - Tatiana. Like Shakespeare's fairy queen. Be she but little, she is fierce. ~ Karen Hawkins
You tempt me beyond reason." Her heart sped up. Indeed he tempted her beyond reason too. ~ Vonda Sinclair
Occasionally, you will come across a wise crack by a pseudoliberal who will refer to God as "she," as if that is the most revolutionary idea known to man, that God could be feminine. Never in such a context is the history of the sexuality of God elucidated, as if it was so obvious to all that God could only be masculine, until the author came along and declared by fiat its femininity. In fact, there did exist matriarchal societies extending from the unknown past into the early historical period. It appears they existed along the "highland zone" which is the foothills extending along the mountainous region from the Pyrenees to the Himalayas. These matriarchal societies influenced the early Sumerian civilization and to a large extent the Minoan civilization, which was one of the few, if not the only matriarchal civilization. These societies were largely overrun and dissipated by invasions of the northern, patriarchal groups but these latter groups did incorporate some matriarchal aspects which exist to this day. For example, although the chief deities of Greece and Rome were masculine, there continued to be a panoply of feminine gods. Or take for example, the history of the Basque people of SW France. Also, when masculine Judaism moved from the Levant to Rome via moderate Christianity and the reconciling Paul, it eventually grafted in the idea of Virgin Mary the Divine. A distant version of this idea stands in New York harbor with her head and torch held high, neither bull dyke ~ Scott Mckee
In a heartbeat, he scarcely could take a breath.
Wearing not a stitch of clothing, Eva stood in thigh-deep water with her back to him.
Before he blinked, his gaze slid from coppery tresses brushing feminine shoulders to a tiny waist which fanned into glorious heart-shaped buttocks. Heaven's stars, her flawless skin had to be as pure white as fresh cream.
God on the cross, save me.
Christ, he was only a flesh and blood man. Who on earth could resist such a temptation? He clenched his teeth and growled. Frigid water or nay, he lengthened like a stallion catching scent of a filly in heat. God's teeth, even his ballocks turned to balls of tight molten steel. ~ Amy Jarecki
I believe he's been asked to testify today," I told Lennox, who'd continued to track Truman's progress through the room. "He's a member of the historical undead, Truman Capote, the author. He wrote Breakfast at Tiffany's and In Cold Blood."...
"Hi, Truman, you're sitting next to me," I said, pulling out his chair. I figured after he'd asked me to suck on his cherry, we should be on a first-name basis. ~ Suzanne Johnson
If you love no one, no one can hurt you," she whispered. ~ Kerrigan Byrne
You're special, Deirdre, and don't ever think otherwise. ~ Jean M. Grant
It occurred to Gavin that the first thought a groom had upon spying his bride shouldn't be to wonder whether or not she wore knickers. ~ Kerrigan Byrne
Mm hmmm." His gaze dropped to her lips. "I missed ye." Lordy, he could melt marzipan with that sexy Scottish burr.
With a dip of his chin, he brushed a kiss across her mouth. Hot tingles spread down her back. Eva moved closer and pressed her body flush with his toned, muscular form. If they hadn't been born so many centuries apart, she could have believed they were made for each other, fitting together perfectly as if molded from the same clay.
Closing her eyes, she drank him in, allowing her senses to take over. Hot, spicy male kissed and held her in a tender embrace with arms that could crush a man, let alone her fine bones. Yet he cradled her with incredible tenderness. ~ Amy Jarecki
A large man with wild blond hair gripped hr horse's reins, drawing her steed to a stop.
"Welcome to hell." Though he presented a jovial grin, his words shot straight to her gut.
"Enough, Murdoch," Sylvi said in a warning tone.
The man shrugged his shoulders. "Ach, I'm just toying with the new lasses. "I'll no' be here long to share my winning personality. ~ Madeline Martin
Some people like the Jews, and some do not. But no thoughtful man can deny the fact that they are, beyond any question, the most formidable and most remarkable race which has appeared in the world.
- Winston S. Churchill ~ Ellen Brazer
and others all agreed that Acts was pretty much an historical novel, much like the so-called Apocryphal Acts, and that it was written in the second century. There is virtually no historical value to it, but it is rich in edifying propaganda, its author having extensively rewritten sources that seem to include Homer, Virgil, Euripides, Josephus, and the Septuagint, creating a revisionist version of early Christianity in the golden age of its origin. ~ Robert M. Price
You know you're in the wrong century when you farble the poor young woman at the cosmetics counter thus: "Why do they put the mascara in little amphorae?!? We're not trying to transport it in Barbie doll merchant vessels - we just want it to stand up on the counter." If her face had been any blanker, her features would have disappeared. ~ Tinney S. Heath
I want ye," Lachlan choked out, surprised at his words and the desperate sound of his own voice. He did not look at Bridgette as he spoke but kept his gaze down to the ground as a war between honor and desire raged within him. "I want ye more than I want air to breathe. ~ Julie Johnstone
Would you like to see where I will build your house, m'lady?"
She grinned. "You mean our house?"
He mirrored her smile. "Aye."
Taking her hand, he led her along the path to the mouth of the River Coe. They stood on a curved peninsula high above the river where it would be free from floods. Hugh spread his arms wide and looked across Loch Leven. "The hills of Glencoe will be our backdrop, the river of the Coe will be our music, and our galleys will sail through the water of the Leven to Loch Linnhe and out to sea. Mark me, my love, Clan Iain Abrach will rebuild, and will once again rule these lands."
He looked into her eyes and saw joy there. "And you will be my queen. ~ Amy Jarecki
Annie's message is timeless, her shining spirit and healing gift from the Spiritual Universe will capture your heart. She was born with birth defects in a time when special children and their mothers were put to death or banished. But have things changed really that much? Have they changed enough? "No!" Bullying, abuse, ridicule, and inequality thrives in the lives of women and children in our global modern society, just as surely as it did in the mid-1600s Colonial America. Based on factual research. ~ Deborah A.Bowman
Ye might no know this about me…"
"But I prefer my women… a wee bit dirty. I've imagined more than once what yer foul mouth could do to me. ~ Kerrigan Byrne
He cleared his throat. "I wish I could take back what I said." He looked away. "I behaved like a thoin aiseal."
"What does that mean?"
"A donkey's arse."
She glanced down at the furs, found herself fighting a smile. "And how do you pronounce that? I somehow suspect I may have need of that phrase again. ~ Shelly Thacker
He pulled her into his arms. Closing his eyes, he savored every inch of her small frame. God, why did she have to be the daughter of the Governor of Fort William? Why could she not be a simple lass from his clan. "Och, mo leannan, what am I to do with you?"
She took in a stilted gasp. "Love me. ~ Amy Jarecki
A fire burned in her chest. A fire that both terrified her and compelled her to lean into him and take everything he would give her. She trembled with the force of these strange emotions.
"Shona." He lifted his hand to gently tilt her chin up and caress her cheek. His breath teased her lips and his nose touched hers briefly.
"Aye," she responded.
His masculine scent and that of spices from the mulled wine stole her thoughts. When his lips touched hers like a light brush of silk, she was ensnared and her breath remained trapped in her chest. Some instinct within her surged to the surface and she pressed her lips firmly against his. ~ Vonda Sinclair
Why does sin feel so good if it is a terrible thing? ~ Amy Jarecki
Do you know who Samuel Langhorne Clemens is, Antonio?" Bessie asked.
"No, chood I?" he said.
"He is best known as Mark Twain, the author of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer," she said.
"I have herd of the story, but I hav not red the booc," he said.
"Well, you should read it," she said. "It is excellent reading. An American classic. Mark Twain worked in Schoharie for a while," she said.
"Is that so?" he said.
"Yes, he worked as a brakeman on the Schoharie railroad station on Depot Street the winter of 1879, three years after he wrote his famous book," Bessie said.
"Why would he do that, a famos author?" Antonio asked.
"A self-published author, I should add. ~ Yasmin Tirado-Chiodini
With a hoarse moan, he swept her against him, kissing her wildly, passionately, his mouth promising and teasing, as if her kiss had broken the dam that had held back his passion. ~ Karen Hawkins
She dragged the soft cloth up and up, the fabric tickling along his sensitized skin. He trembled. Never had he been so responsive to a woman's slightest touch. ~ Angela Quarles
I felt that it was not a historical work, but that, under the guise of physical warfare, it described the duel that perpetually went on in the hearts of mankind, and that physical warfare was brought in merely to make the description of the internal duel more alluring. This preliminary intuition became more confirmed on a closer study of religion and the Gita. A study of the Mahabharata gave it added confirmation. I do not regard the Mahabharata as a historical work in the accepted sense. The Adiparva contains powerful evidence in support of my opinion. By ascribing to the chief actors superhuman or subhuman origins, the great Vyasa made short work the history of kings and their peoples. The persons therein described may be historical, but the author of the Mahabharata has used them merely to drive home his religious theme. ~ Mahatma Gandhi
[Connor to Major Wentworth, grandson of King George]
My fathers were lairds in the Highlands when yours were still farmin' kale back in Germany! ~ Pamela Clare
I'm an author with a penchant for research. For me the part where I'm learning new facts comes before the story I weave
to make an entertaining read. ~ Marcia Fine
Listen to the earth, Feel the fire. Allow the power to flow through ye. ~ Jean M. Grant
Closing his eyes he kissed her forehead. "Eva?"
"Mm."
"I want ye."
A pair of sleepy green eyes turned up to him - not dull green, but vivid, like spring leaves.
William parted his lips as her mouth covered his. Lord save him, Eva's entire body turned wicked, writhing, groping. Her mouth sucking, dictating a frenzied pace as she lifted her hips and let him tug off those damnable panties. ~ Amy Jarecki
I believe every story that is made in the mind of an author; has a trace in real world.A historical fiction completely or partly has happened in the past and a fiction will happen in the future. We are seeing many devices which Jules Verne predicted in his novels!One day you will hear about an invisible fellow. This thought causes motivation and gaiety for me when writing a story. ~ Hamid Karima
Rocking back on his haunches, he ran the pad of his thumb down her sex and swirled it through her moisture. "You're so wet for me."
"Tis a good thing?" she asked with a tremor in her voice.
His deep chuckle rolled though her chest. "Aye, a very good thing. ~ Amy Jarecki