Tall Dark And Texan Quotes

Shut it, Flynn. Just ... oh God, you've been impossible to evict, because possession is nine-tenths of the law. You're inside me. A part of me. But you pulled me close with one hand and crushed my heart with the other, and I can't go through that again. ~ Kate Meader

Gripping her wrists, he pinned her tight to the vanity. "That sex as a weapon thing can only get you so far, Tess."
Wanna bet? "I'm not damaged, cowboy. I don't have hang-ups about my body, I don't use sex to mask my problems" - much - "and right now, if you don't touch me in some very hot, very wet places, I might die. ~ Kate Meader

Hauling a deep, make-me-feel-sexy breath, she
pinned on what she hoped was a coquettish smile, turned as smoothly as her bulky gown allowed, and found her previously pleasure-filled sightline newly blocked by sixfoot- and-change of home-grown Texas assholery.
This particular example happened to have thick, wavy
hair as dark as his heart, deep, soulful eyes as blue as the garter still circling her thigh, and a face that made angels weep. Probably after he'd screwed them senseless, knocked them up, and abandoned them with a wink and a smile. ~ Kate Meader

Her head felt like miniature construction workers had taken up residence. Along with jackhammers and pneumatic drills, they were now whistling at passing women and yelling "Hey, baby!" She made the pledge of hung-over idiots everywhere: I'm never drinking again. ~ Kate Meader

The words hung in the air like dense weighted objects
waiting to crash. Her breath hung with it. He should have frozen, pushed her away, anything but what he did.
He kissed her gently on the top of her head.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she burrowed closer into the safety of all that warm skin. He was naked, yet she was the one completely and utterly exposed. ~ Kate Meader

My motto has always been: a hard man is good to find." Tess gave Hunter's unflinching bicep a gentle squeeze, claiming it and the man for her own. "And never let the bride stand in the way of me and my hard man. ~ Kate Meader

But you just got laid. Very well, I might add. Isn't that enough to tide you over for a while?"
"Maybe for a woman. But if a man doesn't use the goods, they shrivel up - "
She rolled her eyes.
" - and now that I've realized what I've been missing, and you've done such a great job getting me back up on the horse, for which I'm immensely grateful, then I think I'm ready to spread my wings." He motioned to the wing spreading area. His groin. "This really shouldn't go to waste, now, should it? ~ Kate Meader

Flynn was kissing her again, not to help her forget but to force her to remember. Everything he had meant to her then. Everything he meant to her now. How he always had been, and forever would be, her world. ~ Kate Meader

An inappropriate attraction to your friend's fiancé was grounds for disbarment from the Woman Club. Neither did it make a lick of sense. He was uncouth, uneducated, uncivilized. All of their conversations back then had been unholy bicker fests where they charged from the opposite ends of the spectrum, determined not to meet in the middle but to rip pieces out of each other on the drive by. ~ Kate Meader

He fingered her nape, massaging his sensual intent. I'll give you whatever you want whenever you want it. Any time of day, you need relief, just crook your finger and I'll crook mine. Against you, inside you, deep as you need it. If I'm not around, text me and I'll come, ready to make you come. For one week, I'll fulfill every fantasy on demand and get you off so many times we'll break records. ~ Kate Meader

He looked like he might break out into an irate merengue any minute. Patrick Swayze reincarnated. ~ Kate Meader

I could just as easily have taken the train.
He shut his eyes, just long enough for a movie of a Tess-induced train riot to screen on the backs of his eyelids. Fists flying, teeth broken, friendships destroyed as men vied to get closer to her lush body barely covered in that incendiary French maid outfit.
And now he was turning hard again. ~ Kate Meader

Yes, it's me, your PA, now your stripper for the evening. How do you do? ~ Kate Meader

A strong but gentle grip on her nape had pulled her back to make the acquaintance of a warm slab of granite. Callused fingers held her neck while a blunt hand fanned her hip, locking her into position against something hard and hot.
It could have been anyone, but after just one afternoon of Flynn-spun intimacy, her body knew its owner. ~ Kate Meader

She squeezed her thighs together, desperate for relief. Aiming for completion without doing something so deliberate as touching herself. Look ma, no hands! ~ Kate Meader

The last guest lecturer to honor the students with her presence had been Isabelle Lightwood. And the 'lecture' had consisted of a stern and humiliating warning that every female in a ten-mile radius should keep her grubby littler hands off Simon's hot bod.
Fortunately, the tall, dark-haired man who strode to the front of the classroom looked unlikely to have any interest in Simon or his bod. ~ Cassandra Clare

When people dream something as a child, it doesn't always come true. But my childhood dream of what kind of man I would marry and spend the rest of my life with did come true.
I always knew my husband would be tall, dark, and handsome, but he also had to have a rugged look, as if he'd just walked out of the wilderness. He had to love the outdoors and be able to survive there if needed. I also wanted him to be able to take command of any situation when needed.
I wanted him to be a leader but with a sense of humor, too. I wanted him to work and make a living. I wanted him to be a man's man, but with gentleness and love for me and his children, and be ready to defend us at all times. More than anything else, I wanted to feel loved and protected.
What I didn't know when I found the man who filled my dreams was that I had found a diamond in the rough. It would take a lifetime to perfect that diamond on the long journey of life.
Phil and I have had many good years, some hard years, a few sad years, and a lot of struggling years to get where we are now. God put us in each other's paths. It has always been a wonderful ride for me.
I have a husband who is my best buddy and friend, my lover, my Christian brother, my champion, and the person who will always be there through thick and thin.
There is no greater love than your love for God, but right under that is your love for your husband, your partner in life. One of the greatest tragedies I see is people ~ Phil Robertson

Miller and the new man nodded to each other. The girl tugged at her father's sleeve, demanding his attention. Miller looked at her - dark eyes, pale hair, smooth skin. She was already too tall to be mistaken for an Earth child, her limbs longer and thinner. Her skin had the pink flush of Belter babies, which came with the pharmaceutical cocktail that assured that their muscles and bones would grow strong. Miller saw the father notice his attention. Miller smiled and nodded toward the kid. How ~ James S.A. Corey

Asriel was a tall man with powerful shoulders, a fierce dark face, and eyes that seemed to flash and glitter with savage laughter. It was a face to be dominated by, or to fight: never a face to patronize or pity. All his movements were large and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild animal, and when he appeared in a room like this, he seemed a wild animal held in a cage too small for it. ~ Philip Pullman

middle of the room, stands my stylist, Micah, beside a foldaway beauty chair, arranging cosmetics and other paraphernalia atop his portable vanity table, as he sings along with the music playing from his Tab. He's a good looking man, tall and broad shouldered, with dark chocolate skin, gaping flesh-holes in both ears, black dreadlocks pulled back into a thick ponytail and heavy eye make-up which makes his eyes appear to pop out of his face. Too bad he's gay. ~ M.L. Sparrow

And what a man he is. Tall, but not too tall. Five o'clock shadow. Late twenties, early thirties. Piercing blue eyes. Short, brown hair that juts forward, matching his angular face. He's wearing an untucked, button-down white shirt and dark-grey slacks. He looks disheveled in the best way possible. ~ Samantha Riley

Young prince Siddhartha was glorious as the sun,
soft and pure as the moon, radiant as thousand glowing stars.
He was tall and slender with a golden complexion.
His eyes were like deep blue sapphires always shining with intelligence and compassion.
Always with a tender smile on his face that would calm any heart and with dark curled up hair,
young prince Siddhartha was unmatched to anyone. ~ Ama H. Vanniarachchy

Rosie and Mary had taken only a 10 percentage of this privilege - they were three minutes late leaving their room and took the second bus that went past rather than the first just so they could feel themselves standing at a bus stop in Manhattan, New York, surrounded by people who were short, dark and voluble rather than tall, blond and silent. The fatal part was the bus they got on. They, of course stood, because they had been taught to do so, out of respect to everyone else in the whole world - they were from the Midwest and deference was their habit and their training.

......."Did you see that?"

"What?" replied Mary

"That woman."

"God, she was rude," said Mary.

And from that statement Rosalind knew that Mary would live the rest of her life in the Midwest, which she did. ~ Jane Smiley

This target looks relatively unharmed," Pioneer finally says. "Why?"
Will opens his mouth to speak, but Pioneer shushes him with one glance. "My question was directed at Lyla."
His eyes bore into me, searing my skin. Why can't I shoot right like everyone else? There's no answer that I can give that'll make him understand, when I don't even understand myself. So I panic, like always, and say the first thing that pops into my head.
The wrong thing.
"Um, I guess I have a soft spot for the tall, dark, and faceless? ~ Amy Christine Parker

Somewhere forest fires rage and somewhere else something moves beneath dark waters and somewhere blood appears in the hallway of the home of some old couple who aren't bleeding and somewhere someone else spontaneously self-combusts and somehow all the mysteries of this world as I know it offer me comfort and I don't know beans about heaven and hell and somehow all that stuff is no longer an issue and at the moment I'm a sixteen-foot-tall five-hundred-and-forty-eight-pound man inside this six-foot body and all i can feel is the pressure all I can feel is the pressure and the need for release. ~ David Wojnarowicz

There were many echoes of Johnson in Lewis. Both were formidable in their learning and in the range of their conversation, both had the same delight in argument, and in spite of their regard for truth, would argue for victory. Lewis had Johnson's handiness with the butt end of a pistol if an argument misfired. Like Johnson, he was a largish, unathletic-looking man, heavy but not tall, with a roundish, florid face that perspired easily and showed networks of tiny blood-vessels on close inspection; he had a dark flop of hair and rather heavily pouched eyes; these eyes gave life to the face, they were large and brown and unusually expressive. The main effects were of a mild, plain powerfulness, and over all there was a sense of simple masculinity, of a virility absorbed into intellectual life. He differed in his youth from most others of his age by seeming to have no sexual problems or preoccupations, or need to talk about them if he had them ~ Jocelyn Gibb

Was a soldier's tent of heavy canvas, dyed the dark yellow that sometimes passed for gold. Only the royal banner that streamed atop the center pole marked it as a king's. That, and the guards without; queen's men leaning on tall spears, with the badge of the fiery heart sewn over their own. Grooms came up to help them dismount. One of the guards relieved Melisandre of her cumbersome standard, driving the staff deep into the soft ground. Devan stood to one side of the door, waiting to lift the flap for ~ George R R Martin

Let me repeat with quite force: I was, and still am, despite mes malheurs, an exceptionally handsome male; slow moving tall, with dark soft hair and a gloomy but all the more seductive cast of demeanour. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Dressed in new jeans, a light blue dress shirt and a red patterned tie, he stood at Heather's grave with his eyes closed. Although I didn't hear him, his lips were moving like he was praying. In the faint breeze, Mother Nature ran her fingers through his dark hair like I wanted to. He looked tall and strong, the way he used to, but somewhere along the way, without me, he'd stepped into the shoes of a man. And a part of me ached for those missing years. ~ Jordan Dane

Okay, try this on for size, Tall, Dark and Handsome. I won't be born for almost seven hundred hundred years. How's that strike you? ~ Lisa Tawn Bergren

Dude, what're you waiting for?" Carlos calls. "Plant one on her."
I lift my eyes and am shocked to see Brandon is staring at my mouth. He swallows audibly and flicks his gaze to mine. the emotions darkening the soft green color are too confusing to name.
Does he want to back out?
An exhale of breath leaves Brandon's lips, almost like a laugh, and he scoots closer to me on the blanket. I twist my legs under myself, sitting tall as I face him. He cups my chin and tilts it toward him, drowning me in the now dark-green depths of his eyes, the cologne I gave him for his birthday filling my head. It's woodsy and yummy and I always loved how it smelled on the store testers, but on Brandon, it's even sexier. My eyes flutter closed, and I inhale again, this time slowly. Goose bumps prickle my arms, and my head gets fuzzy.
Brandon slides his hand down the column of my neck and brings the other up, threading his fingers through the hair at my nape. His breath fans across my cheek, and everything south of my bellybutton squeezes tight.
When his mouth first meets mine, it's hesitant, questioning. But as I move my lips with his, he quickly grows bolder, coaxing them apart.
Desire, pure and raw, electrifies my veins as his tongue sweeps my mouth. A whimpering sound springs from my chest, and instinctively, I wrap my arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Needing more. My teeth graze his full bottom lip, and I pull it, sucking on it gently.
He moans and ~ Rachel Harris

So Captain Jack's come a-courtin'." Her hands stilled on the basket. "Who?" "The tall Shawnee who come by your cabin." The tall one. Lael felt a small surge of triumph at learning his name. Captain Jack. Oddly, she felt no embarrassment. Lifting her shoulders in a slight shrug, she continued pulling the vines into a tight circle. "He come by, but I don't know why." "Best take a long look in the mirror, then." Lael's eyes roamed the dark walls. Ma Horn didn't own one. "Beads and a blanket, was it?" She nodded and looked back down. "I still can't figure out why some Shawnee would pay any mind to a white girl like me." Ma Horn chuckled, her face alight in the dimness. "Why, Captain Jack's as white as you are." "What?" she blurted, eyes wide as a child's. Ma Horn's smile turned sober. "He's no Indian, Shawnee or otherwise, so your pa says. He was took as a child from some-wheres in North Carolina. All he can remember of his past life is his white name - Jack. ~ Laura Frantz

The door opens, and I turn my head, my heart thudding at the sight of Griffin. Tall, broad, muscular but sleek, he stalks into the room like a predator, his gait balanced and sure, his glittering, gray eyes focused entirely on me. Inky hair, a hawkish nose, that stubborn jaw, and thick, black stubble make him look hard and intimidating. With his sword strapped on and his dark brows lowered, he's a warlord on the prowl.
I shiver. I couldn't want him more. ~ Amanda Bouchet

Some of them stole off to those cryptical realms which are known only to cats and which villagers say are on the moon's dark side, whither the cats leap from tall housetops; but one small black kitten crept upstairs and sprang in Carter's lap to purr and play, and curled up near his feet when he lay down at last on the little couch whose pillows were stuffed with fragrant drowsy herbs. ~ H.P. Lovecraft

I'd like to know more about this undercover agent who posed as my daughter's date. The ubiquitous Tall, Dark, and Smoldering.'
Nick put on his best meet-the-parent smile. 'I generally prefer to go by Nick. ~ Julie James

They say you never forget your first glimpse of Gehenna. Over the tall buildings the sky swirls with orange and red, true titian, a feature of the unique atmosphere. Of course that same air would kill human beings; hence they built the entire city inside a dome. Eternal sunset, that's why the place is so wild. You know the feeling you get, just before full dark? Sundown makes you feel like the world burgeons with possibility, and that's Gehenna for you.
Like any other romantic notion, it's based on bullshit, of course. Gehenna isn't the land of eternal sunset and infinite potential. The gas in the atmosphere just makes it impossible to see the sun. ~ Ann Aguirre

The day waned, and dusk was twined about the boles of the trees. At last the hobbits saw, rising dimly before them, a steep dark land: they had come to the feet of the mountains, and to the green roots of tall Methedras. Down the hillside the young Entwash, leaping from its springs high above, ran noisily from step to step to meet them. On the right of the stream there was a long slope, clad with grass, now grey in the twilight. No trees grew there and it was open to the sky; stars were shining already in lakes between shores of cloud. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Every man who walks the earth casts a shadow on the world. Some are thin and weak, others long and dark. You should look behind you, Lord Snow. The moon has kissed you and etched your shadow upon the ice twenty feet tall. ~ George R.R. Martin

The King of Hell was everything they said he was, both less and more. He was reputed to have the ability to seduce an abbess or the pope himself, and she could see why. It wasn't his physical beauty, which was considerable. He had dark blue eyes behind a fringe of ridiculously long lashes, pale, beautiful skin, the kind of mouth that could bring despair and delight- and what the hell was she doing, thinking about such things?
He looked younger than his reputed age, around forty, and while his long dark hair was streaked with silver it only made him seem more leonine, more dangerous. He was tall, and he moved with an elegant grace that put dancers to shame. He was standing far too close to her, to the gun she'd stolen from Jacobs while he was busy with the carriage, and he was looking at her with far too much interest and absolutely no fear. ~ Anne Stuart

So here's the question," Melinda led in. "Who's Tall, Dark and Smoldering? ~ Julie James

Rosalind was the kind of girl who didn't have to try very hard; she just drew men like moths to a flame. A natural ash blonde with unbelievably dark blue eyes, she had a near perfect figure, always wore the trendiest gear and said exactly the right witty things.
Not like me. I'm no raving beauty by any stretch of the imagination. I've got masses of dark unruly hair which just sort-of hangs around, and I buy only clothes which suit me regardless of fashion. I wouldn't be seen dead in a mini-skirt – as I'm rather tall with long slim legs, I think I'd look like Olive Oyl. ~ Bernie Morris

So, what is it, woman?" She raised one delicate eyebrow and he felt as if she'd dug down into his very soul.
"I have word of Annwyl of the Dark Plains."
Brastias stood quickly, grasping the woman by the arms; she stood almost as tall as he. "Tell me, witch. Where is she?"
She stared at him. "Remove your hands, or I'll make sure you don't have any." Brastias took a deep breath and released her. "She is safe and alive. But she is healing. She won't be back for another fortnight."
Brastias heaved a sigh of overwhelming relief as he sat heavily in his chair. "Thank the gods. I thought we'd lost her."
"You almost had. But the girl must have the gods smiling down on her."
"Can I see her?"
The woman watched him carefully. "No. But I will get any messages you may have to her."
"Give me a few moments, I need to write something." He grabbed quill and paper and wrote Annwyl a brief-but-to-the-point letter. He folded it, affixed his seal, and handed it to the witch. "Give her this and my love."
"You are her man then?" she asked cautiously.
Brastias laughed. He did like his head securely attached to his shoulders. Becoming Annwyl's man risked that.
"Annwyl has no man because there is no man worthy of her. That includes me. So she has become the sister I lost many years ago in Lorcan's dungeons."
The woman nodded and walked back to the entrance of Brastias's tent. She stopped before leaving. "She asks," the witch spoke softly with ~ G.A. Aiken

Pulling out his daggers, he kept them in his sleeves, just in case he happened upon someone who wouldn't understand why a tall, dark-haired man wearing really dark sunglasses and unseasonably warm clothing would be armed to his fangs. Really, Officer, I was trying to protect humanity by killing these things that suck human souls out to live past their twenty-seventh birthday just didn't cut it. Why no one would believe that, he couldn't imagine. Really, the audacity of modern courts and judges.' – Sundown ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

Yes, I'm sorry you won't be coming with us," Chloe said to Alex. "But please don't worry. I'm certain The Lord has another plan for you." She glanced at me. "For both of you."
"Oh, I can assure you,"said a new, deeply masculine voice from behind me. I turned to see John sitting, tall and dark and disapproving, on the back of his horse, Alastor. "He does."
"Chloe wasn't talking about you," I said to John, leaning my elbows against the rough wood of the dock railing. "She meant the other lord."
John raised a dark eyebrow. "Oh, that one," he said. "My mistake. ~ Meg Cabot

Middle children weep longer than their brothers and sisters. Over her mother's shoulder, stilling her pains and her injured pride, Jackie Lacon watched the party leave. First, two men she had not seen before: one tall, one short and dark. They drove off in a small green van. No one waved to them, she noticed, or even said goodbye. Next, her father left in his own car; lastly a blond, good-looking man and a short fat one in an enormous overcoat like a pony blanket made their way to a sports car parked under the beech trees. For a moment she really thought there must be something wrong with the fat one, he followed so slowly and so painfully. Then, seeing the handsome man hold the car door for him, he seemed to wake, and hurried forward with a lumpy skip. Unaccountably, this gesture upset her afresh. A storm of sorrow seized her and her mother could not console her. ~ John Le Carre

I'm begging you, for the love of all that's filthy and wrong in this world, have a good time with tall, dark, and raspy, okay? ~ Terri L. Austin

That's the test, when all is said and done. Does it persuade one to do good, to rise, to stand tall, to do the right thing, to be kind, to be generous? Then it is of the Spirit of God. If it is dark, sinister, ugly, not good, then you may know that it is of the adversary. ~ Gordon B. Hinckley

I have singular tastes. The Alexander Wright. He is tall, dark, handsome, unique, and heavenly. ~ Ashlan Thomas