White Teeth Quotes

peered sideways up and gave a long slow whistle of call, then paused awhile in rapt attention, his even white teeth ~ James Joyce

I want to keep kissing forever, tasting sultry Southern boy and good manners and a filthy fucking mouth, but I think he has other plans. "If you don't want this," he whispers as he grazes my ear with his white, white teeth. "Then you better tell me now because once I get started, I ain't gonna be able to stop. ~ C.M. Stunich

It's a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, "Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn't love me. He just couldn't deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me." Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll
then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time. ~ Zadie Smith

But like all things, the business has two sides. Clean white teeth are not always wise, now are they? Par exemplum: when I was in the Congo, the only way I could identify the nigger was by the whiteness of his teeth, if you see what I mean. Horrid business. Dark as buggery, it was. And they died because of it, you see? Poor bastards. Or rather I survived, to look at it in another way, do you see? ~ Zadie Smith

But it makes an immigrant laugh to hear the fears of the nationalist, scared of infection, penetration, miscegenation, when this is small fry, peanuts, compared to what the immigrant fears - dissolution, disappearance. ~ Zadie Smith

The guys were giving me shit," I blurt out, my common sense weakened by his nearness. "About you. They implied that you were a cold fish where sex was involved. That you don't…er…do that anymore."
God, I can't look at him. I brace for his ire, but he laughs. Not long or very loud, but his chest shakes, and he wipes a hand over his face as he tries to get control of it.
"And you what?" he asks, his eyes gleaming with mirth. "Thought I was a virgin?"
"No." I kick his foot lightly. "No. I just…Gah! You said fuck , and it got me thinking about it."
"Fucking?" he asks, grinning wide enough to flash his white teeth.
I look away so I can't be charmed any further. "I hate you."
"No, you don't," he teases in a tone so unlike him – so like me - that I meet his gaze.
"No, I don't," I agree quietly. ~ Kristen Callihan

Raven allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder with a slight sigh. "Did you kidnap me or rescue me?"
Strong white teeth gleamed at her, a predator's smile, a man's amusement. "Perhaps a little of both. ~ Christine Feehan

It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips. Mother Wolf lay with her big gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived. "Augrh!" said Father Wolf. "It is time to hunt again." He was going to spring down hill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: "Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves. And good luck and strong white teeth go with noble children that they may never forget the hungry in this world. ~ Rudyard Kipling

She rides the sandworm of space!
She guides through all storms
Into the land of gentle winds.
Though we sleep by the snake's den,
She guards our dreaming sould.
Shunning the desert heat,
She hides us in a cool hollow.
The gleaming of her white teeth
Guides us in the night.
By the braids of her hair
We are lifted to heaven!
Sweet fragrance, flower-scented,
Surrounds us in her presence. ~ Frank Herbert

Very Like a Whale

One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by authors of simile and metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,
Can'ts seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have
to go out
of their way to say that it is like something else.
What foes it mean when we are told
That the Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?
In the first place, George Gordon Byron had had enough experience
To know that it probably wasn't just one Assyrian, it was a lot
of Assyrians.
However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and thus
hinder longevity,
We'll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.
Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were gleaming
in purple and gold,
Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a wolf
on
the fold?
In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy there
are
a great many things,
But i don't imagine that among then there is a wolf with purple
and gold
cohorts or purple and gold anythings.
No, no, Lord Byron, before I'll believe that this Assyrian was actually
like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;
Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big red
mouth and
big white teeth and did he say Woof woof?
Fra ~ Ogden Nash

Nestled next to me, she nodded. "I'm fine. As long as I take the medicine. So don't worry." She leaned her head back against my shoulder. "But don't ask me anything, okay? Why that happened."
"Understood. No questions," I said.
"Thank you very much for today," she said.
"What part of today?"
"For taking me to the river. For giving me water from your mouth. For putting up with me."
I looked at her. Her lips were right in front of me. The lips I had kissed as I gave her water. And once more those lips seemed to be seeking me. Slightly parted, with her beautiful white teeth barely visible. I could still feel her soft tongue, which I'd touched slightly as I gave her water. I found it hard to breathe, and I couldn't think. My body burned. She wants me, I thought. And I want her. ~ Haruki Murakami

Hunted what?" Shea held her breath, afraid of what he might say.
"Beautiful women, little one, and I was the one who found you after all." His white teeth gleamed at her, a definite leer.
"Don't put me off like that." She had already taken advantage, sliding easily into his mind and picking out the pictures of danger and revulsion. Fear even. Not so much of their adversary, but of themselves turning into the very thing they sought to destroy.
Jacques, unprepared for her entrance into his mind, had been confident he could keep the grimmer side of their existence watered down for her. Shea had always been reluctant to enter his mind; it hadn't occurred to him that she would do so whenever she wanted.
His expression was so rueful that Shea burst out laughing. "Where I grew up, that's called being caught with your pants down."
He looked down at his body, glistening with the rain. His grin was self-mocking, his black eyes amused. "Literally. ~ Christine Feehan

But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were ~ Bram Stoker

Don't go thinking you can bounce me all over the ground just because I look like somebody's grandmother," the woman said dryly. "Some grandchildren need more raising than others, and I supply it," she grinned, showing very white teeth. -- Esa Bell, Shang Wildcat ~ Tamora Pierce

We cast out votes and raised our leaders, charming men and women with white teeth and silver tongues, and we shoved our many hopes and fears into their hands, believing those hands were strong because they had firm handshakes. They failed us, always. There was no way they could not fail us
they were human, and more importantly, so were we. ~ Isaac Marion

His beard was nonexistent, except for a carefully trimmed goatee that met his mustache on both sides of his mouth.
The overall effect was decidedly villainous. He needed a black horse and a barbarian horde to lead. That or a crew of cutthroats, a ship with blood-red sails, and some knucklehead heroine to lust after.
"Look, I've had a bad day. How about you just walk away from my Jeep?"
The volhv smiled wider, flashing even white teeth.
If he started stroking his beard, I'd have to kill him on principle."He raised his hand to his goatee.
That does it.
"Yeah. And what's with the beard and the horse mane? You look like Rent-a-Villain. ~ Ilona Andrews

Tattered. Water or something more foul soaked both knees of the pants. But Thomas took all that in quickly. Most of his attention was drawn to the man's head. Thomas couldn't help but stare, mesmerized. It looked like hair had been ripped from his scalp, leaving bloody scabs in its place. His face was pallid and wet, with scars and sores everywhere. One eye was gone, a gummy red mass where it should have been. He also had no nose, and Thomas could actually see traces of the nasal passages in his skull underneath the terribly mangled skin. And his mouth. Lips drawn back in a snarl, gleaming white teeth exposed, clenched tightly together. His good eye glared, somehow vicious in the way it darted between Brenda and Thomas. Then the man said something in a wet and gurgly voice that made Thomas shiver. He spoke only a few words, but they were so absurd and out of place that it just made the whole thing that much more horrifying. Rose ~ James Dashner

She noticed then how nice his teeth were. There had been little opportunity to see them, as the guy hardly ever smiled. His white teeth were flat in all the right places. Sharp in all the other right places. ~ Sarah Noffke

Julian smiled back, his full lips pulled back over white teeth as he rolled the blanket back a little bit. "Is he really a heart breaker?"
"I'm the breakiest of heart breakers," Leo interjected, his tone deadpan as he dumped a handful of greens into the pot on the stove.
Julian wrinkled his nose. "That's not even a word," He complained and fell into a sulky silence from his place on the bed. ~ Hazel Blackthorn

He reached across the car and took my hand. "I know I haven't been around as much," he said, "but after today, my schedule won't be so busy."
"I understand," I said softly. And I did. "Football is your life. It's your dream."
He made a sound. "You're just as important to me."
I smiled. "I have to admit I won't be upset when this game is over and all the girls around here stop wearing your number all over their bodies."
His white teeth flashed. "Is someone jealous?"
I snorted.
His smile grew wider.
"Maybe a little," I admitted.
He lunged forward and in seconds had me in his lap, my legs straddling him so we were face to face. He buried his hands in my tangled disaster of hair. I admit I hadn't even brushed it when we got out of bed this morning.
"You're my favorite girl," he whispered.
"I better be your only girl."
He smiled. "That too. ~ Cambria Hebert

At last they came to the lower slopes of the great mountains. Here she met a wild and bedraggled boy. He stumbled across her when she had stopped to rest and suckle the baby. The boy stared at the unlikely pair for a moment, then seated himself on the ground at a respectful distance, obviously preparing to converse. He was the strangest looking boy she had ever seen. Evidently a changeling like herself, for he was tall and straight with long slender limbs, but his hair was golden like the sun and his eyes a deep blue like the sky. He looked to be about fifteen years old, not quite a man, yet man enough to survive. She guessed he must have originated from the fabled district of Shor, in the far south, where it was rumoured that all the people were changelings, and all golden-haired.
Astelle tensed, fully expecting Torking to deliver one of his pain bolts to the curious boy, but the child seemed unperturbed, and simply carried on suckling. This boy's attention was obviously not deemed as a threat. She relaxed and smiled at the youth.
He returned the smile, white teeth startling against his tanned and dirty face. 'Why are you travelling all alone?' he asked.
Encouraged by Torking's mindwhispers, Astelle managed to concoct a story very close to the truth.
'As you can see, my child is rather unusual,' she explained. 'I could not bear to raise him among mortals who would constantly deride and insult him – and his father has left me, so I had no choice but to run ~ Bernie Morris

There was currant toast squishy with butter, caramel-marshmallow squares, strawberry boats oozing custard, chocolate exclairs that exploded with cream when the cats bit into them with their little white teeth and-- a special treat for Pleasant-- a pie made from thick slices of Bramley apple, with just the right amount of tangy in the tangy-sweet. ~ Anne Michaels

Anna did a double take as the tall brute actually smiled. Perfect white teeth were revealed by his killer grin. ~ Elena Kincaid

You think ninety percent of the things I want to do are silly."
"i think my allowing you to do all these things is silly."
She winced visibly. "We need less of this allow stuff.Besides, you owe me a night out without any trouble."
"You had trouble tonight?" Gary asked.
"There was no trouble." Gregori was clearly puzzled.
"You're always getting in fights. Everywhere we go,you just can't help yourself," Savannah accused ndignantly. "You picked the one tonight."
"You picked a fight?" Gary was astounded.
"I did not pick a fight," Gregori denied. "A few men were determined to mug us,so I provided them with an interesting experience. There was no fight. Had I actually struck them physical blows, they would be in the hospital." His white teeth gleamed, the silver eyes glittering with more than danger, with a hint of amusement. "As it is,they just think they should be hospitalized.There is nothing wrong with any of them.I was quite gentle for Savannah's sake.Which,I see, she does not appreciate."
"I would appreciate going out and behaving normally."
"I was behaving in my normal fashion, cherie," he reminded her gently.
"I take it we're going on a vampire hunt tomorrow night," Gary said, laughter in his voice. ~ Christine Feehan

She sighed, annoyed at her restlessness. "So," she said, disrupting Wolf in another backward glance.
"Who would win in a fight - you or a pack of wolves?"
He frowned at her, all seriousness. "Depends," he said, slowly, like he was trying to figure out her motive for asking. "How big is the pack?"
"I don't know, what's normal? Six?"
"I could win against six," he said. "Any more than that and it could be a close call."
Scarlet smirked. "You're not in danger of low self-esteem, at least."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing at all." She kicked a stone from their path. "How about you and ... a lion?"
"A cat? Don't insult me."
She laughed, the sound sharp and surprising. "How about a bear?"
"Why, do you see one out there?"
"Not yet, but I want to be prepared in case I have to rescue you."
The smile she'd been waiting for warmed his face, a glint of white teeth flashing. "I'm not sure. I've never had to fight a bear before. ~ Marissa Meyer

Shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves. And good luck and strong white teeth go with noble children that they may never forget the hungry in ~ Rudyard Kipling

Do not, cherie, ever think you cannot measure up to my expectations."
"You might get tired teaching me things."
His hand spanned the slim column of her throat so that her pulse was beating into the center of his palm. "Never. It will never happen. And I have much to learn from you.There has been no laughter in my life.You have brought that to me.There are many things you have brought to my life-feelings and emotions I could never experience without you." He bent to brush her mouth with his. "Can you not feel that I speak the truth?"
Savannah closed her eyes as his mouth took possession of hers, as his mind merged firmly with hers. There was such an intimacy in sharing his thoughts and feelings. Gregori was intense in his hunger and need. There were no doubts in him, no hesitation. He knew they would always be together; he would accept nothing else.If something ever changed that,he would choose to follow her into the dawn.
Gregori released her slowly, almost reluctantly. She stood very still, looking up at him, her blue eyes studying his face. "We can do this Savannah," he encouraged her softly. "Do not get frightened and try to run from your fate. Stay with me and fight."
A small smile touched her mouth. "Fate. Interesting word to use. You make it sound like I've been sentenced to prison." She took a deep breath and made herself relax. "You're bad, but not quite that bad," she teased him.
His white teeth gleamed, his predator's smile. "I am very ~ Christine Feehan

He leans forward slightly, lips pulling back against his even, white teeth. It's so aggressive and animalistic I expect to see fangs. "I am your rightful king, Silver-born for centuries," he replies, seething. "The only reason you're still breathing is because I can't burn the oxygen from this room. ~ Victoria Aveyard

SPRING Somewhere a black bear has just risen from sleep and is staring down the mountain. All night in the brisk and shallow restlessness of early spring I think of her, her four black fists flicking the gravel, her tongue like a red fire touching the grass, the cold water. There is only one question: how to love this world. I think of her rising like a black and leafy ledge to sharpen her claws against the silence of the trees. Whatever else my life is with its poems and its music and its glass cities, it is also this dazzling darkness coming down the mountain, breathing and tasting; all day I think of her - her white teeth, her wordlessness, her perfect love. ~ Mary Oliver

I grin, and he beams with pride.
"So what kind of hat is that?" I ask, unable to resist. He's adorable when he's showing off his wardrobe - like a puppy doing tricks. Although I remain cautious, knowing in the blink of an eye he can become a wolf again.
"My Peregrination Cap," he answers.
"Huh?"
His smile widens - baring white teeth. "Peregrination. An excursion ... a journey."
"So, why don't you just call it your traveling cap?"
"Then it wouldn't be much of a conversation starter, would it?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Um, the fact that it's made of living moths might give you something to talk about."
Morpheus laughs. For once our relationship feels comfortable, friendly. ~ A.G. Howard

You see someone more interesting than me?" asked Simon. In the dream he was mysteriously an expert dance. He steered her through the crowd as if she were a leaf caught in a river current. He was wearing all black, like a shadow hunter, and it showed his coloring to a good advantage: dark hair, lighted brown skin,white teeth. He's handsome, Clary thought, with a jolt of surprise. "There's no one more interesting than you," Clary said. "It's just this place. I've never seen anything like it." She turned again as they passed a champagne fountain ... She was now dancing with Jace, who was wearing white, the material of his shirt a thin cotton ... ~ Cassandra Clare

Dear lord, the flash of his gleaming white teeth was like a hot button to my nether regions. Down vagina! Down, girl.
Bad Rep by A. Meredith Walters ~ A Meredith Walters

You liked watching Lucrezia and her consort," Roark observed, ignoring his comment and switching the subject, taking Nix's earlobe between his white teeth and nipping it, hard. He licked at the blood. "The cruel face of their love. It turned you on. Hard. ~ Jae T. Jaggart

I wrote 'White Teeth' in the late nineties. I didn't really feel trepidatious about it. It was a different time. ~ Zadie Smith

Holy cow," Chloe said faintly.
"No kidding," Gwen breathed.
The sexy Fae prince flashed them a smile that was pure devilish charm, sexy and playful and mischievous, briefly catching the tip of his tongue between white teeth, before his lip curved, dark eyes sparkling gold.
Gabby groaned. She choked on it hastily, camouflaging it with a dry little cough. Her own private stash of eye candy had just been made available for public consumption and she didn't like it one bit.
Apparently she wasn't the only one.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Dageus?" Drustan said irritably.
"Och, aye," Dageus said darkly. "You liked him better invisible too?"
"Och, aye."
"Should I curse him again?"
"Och, aye."
Adam threw back his head and laughed, eyes sparkling with gold fire. "Bloody hell, it's good to be back," he purred. ~ Karen Marie Moning

He grinned, flashing his even white teeth, a wicked gleam shone in his eyes, making her insides melt. "So that's why you remember the last time you saw me? Obviously I made a lasting impression."

"You did. It scarred me for life," she quipped. ~ Tracey Rogers

Peeling an Orange

Between you and a bowl of oranges I lie nude
Reading The World's Illusion through my tears.
You reach across me hungry for global fruit,
Your bare arm hard, furry and warm on my belly.
Your fingers pry the skin of a naval orange
Releasing tiny explosions of spicy oil.
You place peeled disks of gold in a bizarre pattern
On my white body. Rearranging, you bend and bite
The disks to release further their eager scent.
I say "Stop, you're tickling," my eyes still on the page.
Aromas of groves arise. Through green leaves
Glow the lofty snows. Through red lips
Your white teeth close on a translucent segment.
Your face over my face eclipses The World's Illusion.
Pulp and juice pass into my mouth from your mouth.
We laugh against each other's lips. I hold my book
Behind your head, still reading, still weeping a little.
You say "Read on, I'm just an illusion," rolling
Over upon me soothingly, gently unmoving,
Smiling greenly through long lashes. And soon
I say "Don't stop. Don't disillusion me."
Snows melt. The mountain silvers into many a stream.
The oranges are golden worlds in a dark dream. ~ Virginia Adair

I can't tell if you want it to be true," he says in a low voice that I feel as if I'm the only one who can hear. "I don't know either," I tell him honestly. "But if you are, I think I need to go to church tomorrow, because that means impossible things exist like unicorns and the resurrection." He laughs then, a wide mouthed, white teeth flashing. "Tomorrow's Friday." I nod. "I know, but it can't ever be too early to repent. ~ Jen Frederick

His hand lightly pressed to the small of my back, and I turned. His arm slid around me and I was brought up against him. 'You're shaking,' he said, a frown lacing his tone. 'I know.' 'We don't have to,' he said. 'I'm a patient man.' 'Are you really?' I asked, my tone slightly rueful. His white teeth flashed. 'For you I would be.' The sincerity in his voice was my undoing. 'No more talking,' I whipered.
- Romeo & Rimmel ~ Cambria Hebert

Eyes, golden-brown curls and crimson cheeks. She laughed too much to please her father's congregation and had shocked old Mrs. Taylor, the disconsolate spouse of several departed husbands, by saucily declaring - in the church-porch at that - "The world ISN'T a vale of tears, Mrs. Taylor. It's a world of laughter." Little dreamy Una was not given to laughter. Her braids of straight, dead-black hair betrayed no lawless kinks, and her almond-shaped, dark-blue eyes had something wistful and sorrowful in them. Her mouth had a trick of falling open over her tiny white teeth, and a shy, meditative smile occasionally crept over her small face. She was much more sensitive to public opinion than Faith, and had an uneasy consciousness that there was something askew in their way of living. She longed to put it right, but did not know how. Now and then she dusted the furniture - but it was so seldom she could find the duster because it was never in the same place twice. And when ~ L.M. Montgomery

Vampires have bright eyes glistening white teeth unnaturally smooth skin and a certain animal magnetism. If they aren't pretty they starve. It's sort of like life in Los Angeles. ~ Molly Harper

Autumn imagined the girl, with long dark hair in plaits and a red cape, running through the wood and stopping because she hears something: soft paws crushing damp moss, an animal breathing. She runs on. She's frightened. She knows what will happen is inevitable. All the while the wolf is keeping pace with her, watching her, its pink tongue lolling over its sharp, white teeth. Waiting for its chance. ~ Sanjida Kay

Hunting Verse - Feet that make no noise; eyes that can see in the dark; ears that can hear the winds in their lairs, and sharp white teeth, all ~ Rudyard Kipling

And there it was: the brilliant I-care-about-you smile he'd waited months to see directed at him.He knew in that instant that one would never be enough to last him a lifetime, as he'd originally thought. Because in that quiet moment, in her straight white teeth, her curving lips and sincere blue eyes, he'd found serenity. ~ Wendy S. Marcus

In her daydreams, they aged miraculously, she still trim with a blond ponytail, standing next to her strong, tall husband with his thick, curly dark hair and straight white teeth. Money was never an issue. ~ Karen Jones Gowen

The stranger astonished him more and more by her dignified and serious manner. It's usually the case, isn't it, that a young girl giggles when a man speaks with her, or else blushes, hides her face, and behaves awkwardly? The stranger was nothing like this. She maintained her poise, natural, cold and majestic. He delighted in her bearing, his fascination growing all the time; his eyes sparkled and his half-open mouth, showing his white teeth, made him look as if he needed to breathe more than usual. ~ Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch

Bryce shouldered the canvas bag, surveying the Viper Queen. "Nice outfit."

The serpentine shifter smiled, revealing bright white teeth - and canines that were slightly too elongated. And slightly too thin. "Nice bodyguard."

Bryce shrugged as those snake's eyes dragged over every inch of Hunt. "Nothing going on upstairs, but everything happening where it counts. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Gregori tugged on her hair to force her back to him. "You make me feel alive, Savannah."
"Do I? Is that why you're swearing?" She turned onto her stomach, propping herself up onto her elbows.
He leaned into her, brushing his mouth across the swell of her breast. "You are managing to tie me up in knots. You take away all my good judgement."
A slight smile curved her mouth. "I never noticed that you had particularly good judgement to begin with."
His white teeth gleamed, a predator's smile, then sank into soft bare flesh. She yelped but moved closer to him when his tongue swirled and caressed, taking away the sting. "I have always had good judgement," he told her firmly, his teeth scraping back and forth in the valley between her breasts.
"So you say.But that doesn't make it so. You let evil idiots shoot you with poisoned darts. You go by yourself into laboratories filled with your enemies. Need I go on?" Her blue eyes were laughing at him.
Her firm, rounded bottom was far too tempting to resist. He brought his open palm down in mock punishment. Savannah jumped, but before she could scoot away, his palm began caressing, producing a far different effect. "Judging from our positions, ma petite, I would say my judgement looks better than yours."
She laughed. "All right,I'm going to let you win this time."
"Would you care for a shower?" he asked solicitously.
When she nodded, Gregori flowed off the bed, lifted her high into his arms,and ~ Christine Feehan

Opening her eyes, Eva placed her palm in the center of William's chest. "You're next." With her wee push, he obliged her and sat on the edge of the bed. Kneeling, she untied his shoes and removed his hose. When she stood, William had already untied the lace of the arming doublet he wore atop his shirt. Eva held up her finger. "Tsk, tsk. You don't want to spoil my fun do you?"
He shrugged out of the doublet with a look of defiance. "It canna hurt to help a bit."
"Come here." She pulled him up by the cord of his chausses. Fingers working quickly, she untied them and his braies, and let them drop to the floor. Then, with a sultry giggle, she slowly tugged the tie on his linen shirt, staring at his eyes while she tortured him, pulling oh so very slowly. "This bit of linen is all that's left between us, William."
He growled though straight white teeth. "And it will be torn to shreds if ye dunna haste to rip it from my torrid flesh. ~ Amy Jarecki

I'm saying I want shit kept quiet." She grinned at Ruhn, showing all her white teeth, the expression more savage than amused. "I'm saying if you three morons leak any of this to your Aux buddies or drunken hookups, I am going to be very unhappy."

Honestly, Hunt would have liked nothing more than to grab some popcorn and a beer, kick back in a chair, and watch her verbally fillet these assholes. ~ Sarah J. Maas

What?" The corner of his mouth turned up, his white teeth gleaming in the light.
"Just thinking how hot you are."
He scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. "Thanks - but aren't all firefighters hot? I mean, we do basically live in fire. ~ Shaye Evans

Jerry took a large slice of wheaten bread, spread with golden butter, and bit into it with her small white teeth. It was a natural gesture - she was very hungry indeed - but to Sam, there was something symbolic about it. Jerry was like bread, he thought. She was like good wholesome wheaten bread, spread thick with honest farm butter; and the thought crossed his mind, that a man might eat bread forever and ever, and not tire of it, and it would never clog his palate like sweet cakes or pastries or chocolate eclairs. ~ D.E. Stevenson

This is how it should have been that first night down on the sand," he whispered. "This is our beginning Ivy. I want to make it official. I want there to be no doubt, 'cause I'm gonna do stupid shit all the time." I giggled, and his white teeth flashed. "I'm gonna leave the toilet seat up. I'm gonna be overprotective, probably bossy, and my temper is always gonna run hot." "I don't care," I told him, sliding my hands up to rest on his chest. "Tell me you'll be my girl, and I swear I'll love you with everything I got." "I'm always gonna be stubborn. I'm not gonna take your shit. My makeup will be all over the bathroom, and I still don't have a major. Oh, and I want to keep Prada. You have to like her, too." "I already told Rim to get your adoption paperwork ready for that rat." Then in lower tones, he said, "She's grown on me." I smiled. He totally loved Prada. "So what's my answer?" He tightened his arms around my waist. I pretended to think it over. A girl should never sound too eager-even if she was practically peeing herself with glee. "Blondie," Braeden growled. "I'm already yours, B. I have been for a long time. ~ Cambria Hebert

Good Evening, Mark." Jesus. Just like that. Smooth like butter. Ruxs looked up from his menu at the deep mellow voice that rolled over his body and settled deep inside him. His smile was so large, his partner ended up mimicking him. Green's smile was wide. His perfect white teeth shone bright in the dim restaurant. Ruxs ~ A.E. Via

He remained on his knees, looking up at his fellow-prisoner with a lively look for a prison. A sunburnt, quick, lithe, little man, though rather thickset. Earrings in his brown ears, white teeth lighting up his grotesque brown face, intensely black hair clustering about his brown throat, a ragged red shirt open at his brown breast. Loose, seaman-like trousers, decent shoes, a long red cap, a red sash round his waist, and a knife in it. 'Judge ~ Charles Dickens

It's still easier to find the correct Hoover bag than to find one pure person, one pure faith, on the globe. ~ Zadie Smith

You really think that's where any of us are headed?" She actually gave him a grin, baring straight white teeth, her face lit by the golden glow of the dawn. It jarred him to realize that Brion had been right - this girl was absolutely gorgeous. "I'll see you in the darklands, Agallon. Save a demon or two for me. ~ Morgan Rhodes

American actors are all muscular, tanned, white teeth and they have this indestructible confidence. We British are all ... Dare I say it? Pessimistic. ~ Max Irons

You missed him," she said. Somehow it didn't seem possible. He was so sure of himself, almost invincible in his manner.
"I hit what I was aiming at," he answered quietly. "We have to keep moving. I'm hoping I slowed them down, but we can't count on it." He forced the oars through the water with his powerful arms and the boat shot through the channel toward open water.
"I didn't feel anything."
His gaze brushed her face, an odd little caress she felt all the way through her body, just as if he'd touched her with his fingers. "I wasn't aiming at you."
She caught the fleeting glint of his white teeth in what could have been a brief smile. One dark eyebrow rose in response. "Has anyone ever told you your sense of humor needs a little work?"
"No one's ever accused me of having a sense of humor before. You keep insulting me. First you accuse me of missing, and then you try to tell me I have a sense of humor."
His face was made of stone, his tone devoid of all expression. His eyes were flat and ice cold, but Dahlia felt him laughing. Nothing big, but it was there in the boat between then, and the terrible pressure in her chest lifted a bit. "And it needs work," she pointed out. "Get it right." She even managed a brief smile of her own to match his. ~ Christine Feehan

Are you actually good looking?" she asks skeptically.

"Terribly good looking," I reply.

"Let me guess. Dark hair, brown eyes, great abs, white teeth, Abercrombie & Fitch."

"Close," I say. "Light brown hair, correct on the eyes, abs, and teeth, but American Eagle Outfitters all the way."

"Impressive," she says.

"My turn," I say. "Thick blonde hair, big blue eyes, an adorable little white dress with a matching hat, royal blue skin, and you're about two feet tall."

She laughs loudly. "You have a thing for Smurfette?"

"A guy can dream. ~ Colleen Hoover

I saw a moving sight the other morning before breakfast in a little hotel where I slept in the dusty fields. The young man of the house shot a little wolf called coyote in the early morning. The little heroic animal lay on the ground, with his big furry ears, and his clean white teeth, and his little cheerful body, but his little brave life was gone. It made me think how brave all living things are. Here little coyote was, without any clothes or house or books or anything, with nothing to pay his way with, and risking his life so cheerfully - and losing it - just to see if he could pick up a meal near the hotel. He was doing his coyote-business like a hero, and you must do your boy-business, and I my man-business bravely, too, or else we won't be worth as much as a little coyote. ~ William James

I will here venture upon a little description of him. He stood full six feet in height, with noble shoulders, and a chest like a coffer-dam. I have seldom seen such brawn in a man. His face was deeply brown and burnt, making his white teeth dazzling by the contrast; while in the deep shadows of his eyes floated some reminiscences that did not seem to give him much joy. ~ Herman Melville

The puritanical potentialities of science have never been forecast. If it evolves a body of organized rites, and is established as a religion, hierarchically organized, things more than anything else will be done in the name of 'decency.' The coarse fumes of tobacco and liquors, the consequent tainting of the breath and staining of white fingers and teeth, which is so offensive to many women, will be the first things attended to. ~ Wyndham Lewis

His wings burned and he felt ashamed. This life in Italy had been a dark and ugly death for her. One of the worst. He would never stop blaming himself for the horrible way she had passed out of this life.
But that was years after where Daniel stood today. This was the hospital where they'd first met, when Lucia was so young and lovely, innocent and saucy in the same breath. Here she had loved him instantly and completely. Though she was too young for Daniel to show he loved her back,he had never discouraged her affection. She used to slip her hand inside his when they strolled under the orange trees on the Piazza della Repubblica,but when he squeezed her hand,she would blush.It always made him laugh,the way she could be so bold, then suddenly turn shy.She used to tell him that she wanted to marry him someday.
"You're back!"
Daniel spun around. He hadn't heard the door behind him opening. Lucia jumped when she saw him. She was beaming, showing a perfect row of tiny white teeth. Her beauty took his breath away.
What did she mean,he was back? Ah, this was when he'd hidden from Luce,frightened of killing her by accident. He was not allowed to reveal anything to her; she had to discover the details for herself. Was he even to hint broadly,she would simply combust. Had he stayed,she might have grilled him and perhaps forced the truth out of him...He didn't dare. ~ Lauren Kate

Galen slides into his desk, unsettled by the way the sturdy blond boy talking to Emma casually rests his arm on the back of her seat.
"Good morning," Galen says, leaning over to wrap his arms around her, nearly pulling her from the chair. He even rests his cheek against hers for good measure. "Good morning...er, Mark, isn't it?" he says, careful to keep his voice pleasant. Still, he glances meaningfully at the masculine arm still lining the back of Emma's seat, almost touching her.
To his credit-and safety-Mark eases the offending limb back to his own desk, offering Emma a lazy smile full of strikingly white teeth. "You and Forza, huh? Did you clear that with his groupies?"
She laughs and gently pries Galen's arms off her. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the eruption of pink spreading like spilled paint over her face. She's not used to dating him yet. Until about ten minutes ago, he wasn't used to it either. Now though, with the way Mark eyes her like a tasty shellfish, playing the role of Emma's boyfriend feels all too natural.
The bell rings, saving Emma from a reply and saving Mark thousands of dollars in hospital bills. Emma shoots Galen a withering look, which he deflects with that he hopes is an enchanting grin. He measures his success by the way her blush deepens but stops short when he notices the dark circles under her eyes.
She didn't sleep last night. Not that he thought she would. She'd been quiet on the flight home from Destin two n ~ Anna Banks

The pile of guts was a black blob of flies that buzzed like a saw. After a while these flies found Simon. Gorged, they alighted by his runnels of sweat and drank. They tickled under his nostrils and played leapfrog on his thighs. They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up and looked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood - and his gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition. ~ William Golding

As she chattered and laughed and cast quick glances into the house and the yard, her eyes fell on a stranger, standing alone in the hall, staring at her in a cool impertinent way that brought her up sharply with a mingled feeling of feminine pleasure that she had attracted a man and an embarrassed sensation that her dress was too low in the bosom. He looked quite old, at least thirty-five. He was a tall man and powerfully built. Scarlett thought she had never seen such a man with such wide shoulders, so heavy with muscles, almost too heavy for gentility. When her eye caught his, he smiled, showing animal-white teeth below a close-clipped black mustache. He was dark of face, swarthy as a pirate, and his eyes were as bold and black as any pirate's appraising a galleon to be scuttled or a maiden to be ravished. There was a cool recklessness in his face and a cynical humor in his mouth as he smiled at her, and Scarlett caught her breath. She felt that she should be insulted by such a look as was annoyed with herself because she did not feel insulted. She did not know who he could be, but there was undeniably a look of good blood in his dark face. It showed in the thin hawk nose over the full red lips, and high forehead and the wide-set eyes. ~ Margaret Mitchell

Where is Simus?" Keir asked.

As if at his command, the flaps of the main entrance opened, and there was a commotion as Simus was borne aloft on a cot by four men, like the roast pig at the mid-winter festival. I had to smile, and saw that others in the crowd were not immune to the humor of the image.

"Make way!" Simus boomed out, his voice filled with laughter. "Make way!" He grinned like a fool, white teeth gleaming in his dark face, carried aloft over everyone's head, propped up with brightly colored pillows. But his joy changed to a yell of panic when one of his bearers stumbled slightly. This caused an outbreak of laughter in the crowd, as Simus berated his bearers for their clumsiness. ~ Elizabeth Vaughan

I'm sick of very white teeth and lots of gymnasium practice. I'm bored, you know, send in the next one. I wanted a real man that I could believe was my brother, my father, you know, my next-door neighbor - a real person. ~ Tim Roth

He had a ruggedness about him that was appealing. Despite his groomed presentation, his chiseled face was shadowed with an attractive scruff of hair. His beautiful smile burned into me, melting me from the inside out while it exposed perfect white teeth embellished with alluring fangs. For a moment, I allowed myself to indulge in the idea of them sinking into my neck. Would it provoke the ecstasy I imagined or the horror I feared? ~ J.M. Northup

You are my life, little one. We will ask Father Hummer to marry us in the way of your people." His white teeth gleamed at her. His dark eyes were warm with contentment. "I will accept the marriage as binding, and you will erase the word divorce and all of its meanings from your memory. That will please me." He grinned at her, male amusement taunting her.
Her fingertips traced the hard line of his jaw tenderly. "How do you manage to turn everything to your advantage?"
His hand found the bare skin of her satin-smooth thigh, reveling in all that warm heat. "I do not know the answer to that, little one. Perhaps it is sheer talent. ~ Christine Feehan

The woman, who belonged to the courtesan class, was celebrated for an embonpoint unusual for her age, which had earned for her the sobriquet of "Boule de Suif" (Tallow Ball). Short and round, fat as a pig, with puffy fingers constricted at the joints, looking like rows of short sausages; with a shiny, tightly-stretched skin and an enormous bust filling out the bodice of her dress, she was yet attractive and much sought after, owing to her fresh and pleasing appearance. Her face was like a crimson apple, a peony-bud just bursting into bloom; she had two magnificent dark eyes, fringed with thick, heavy lashes, which cast a shadow into their depths; her mouth was small, ripe, kissable, and was furnished with the tiniest of white teeth. ~ Guy De Maupassant

was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips. Mother Wolf lay with her big gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived. "Augrh!" said Father Wolf. "It is time to hunt again." He was going to spring down hill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: "Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves. And good luck and strong white teeth go with noble children that they may never forget the hungry in this world." It was the jackal - Tabaqui, the Dish-licker - and the wolves of India ~ Rudyard Kipling

I would never normally approach a woman in this way, but I couldn't help but notice that you have the eyes of a lady I was once desperately in love with. "
"What a shame to love only once," she said, showing her white teeth in a wicked smile. "I've heard some men can manage twice or even more."
I ignored her gibe. "I am only a fool once. Never will I love again. ~ Patrick Rothfuss

As we prepared for sleep that night I noticed that Lisa was staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked as young now as the day I met her, no grey upon her jet black hair, face always pale, she rarely sun bathed, dark glittering eyes and finally pearly white teeth. What a woman, always passionate about her affairs and always interested in my work. Shame her family could not attend our wedding. I suppose that is the hazard of marrying a Slav, either the family is dead, scattered or too poor to fly to England. Still it was a happy wedding, a quiet one with a few friends from work.

Lisa crawled into bed beside me; her body, always cold, quickly warmed to my touch. Why are women always cold when they first get into bed? We kissed for what seemed an age, caressing each other's bodies until at last she pushed me onto my back, straddled me and smiled looking down into my eyes. She licked her lips and slowly leant forward.

The next morning I checked my neck for any tell-tale signs of our love making. Again Lisa had bitten every inch of my body and left not a mark. I smiled down at her sleeping form, kissed her cheek and went to my study. I had term papers to mark and research for my next set of lectures.

Lisa came into my study just after lunch. For a woman just out of bed she looked remarkably well, her hair was untangled, her cheeks full in bloom, there were no signs of tiredness in her eyes at all.

I smiled at her as we kissed, t ~ E.A.Drake

I'm Magnus." He smiled, showing blinding white teeth.
"Magnus Bane."
"Are we long-lost friends, by any chance?" Simon said.
"Just wondering."
"No, we never got along all that well," said Magnus.
"Long-lost acquaintances? Compadres? My cat liked you. ~ Cassandra Clare

I grew up in a house where my father went on auditions, and he got some and he lost some, and there were good years and lean years. I didn't expect anything from the business, and that's often a danger in Hollywood, the notion that if you're pretty and have white teeth and just show up for the game then you'll win. ~ Chris Pine

We all line up except for this guy in a wheelchair, Devyn. He smiles at me when I line up, introduces himself. He has a movie star smile, just white teeth and charisma, big eyes, dark skin. He'd be perfect looking if he didn't have such a large nose, but the truth is it looks good on him, natural and powerful. He winks at Issie, who blushes.
"You can do it, Is," he says.
She rolls her eyes, twists her lip, and says, "As long as I don't pass out."
"If you pass out, I'll put you in my lap and wheel you across the finish line," he says, and it somehow isn't sleazy because you can tell by his eyes how much he cares about Issie. I instantly like him.
She blushes worse. Her face looks like she's already sprinted a mile. ~ Carrie Jones

I had never seen her smile before. At least, not beyond the cursory upturn at the edges of her lips as we passed each other in the hallway. But now, her smile transformed her, as if she'd grown taller, or changed her hair color, or something. Her cheeks popped with dimples, her lips seemed redder and softer against the backdrop of her white teeth. Damn. She was cute. ~ Allen Eskens

As Damiano strolled to the back platform, he returned her smile, white teeth against bronzed skin, then he dropped into the water. The man was sex on a stick.
MacRieve stepped in front of her, clasping her nape, jealousy ablaze in his expression. Eyes on the prize, woman. It's a werewolf you'll have, or none at all. ~ Kresley Cole

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together- a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred spirits could enter. It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my darkest night. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Let me guess. Dark hair, brown eyes, great abs, white teeth, Abercrombie & Fitch." "Close," I say. "Light brown hair, correct on the eyes, abs, and teeth, but American Eagle Outfitters all the way." "Impressive," she says. "My turn," I say. "Thick blonde hair, big blue eyes, an adorable little white dress with a matching hat, royal blue skin, and you're about two feet tall." She laughs loudly. "You have a thing for Smurfette? ~ Colleen Hoover

What Vera doesn't know is: I'd kill to be a pickle on her Big Mac - ground to relish between her perfect white teeth.
I'd kill to be a bug she squishes with her holey Army-issue combat boot.
But she's too good for me. She always was. ~ A.S. King

As a matter of fact it required only a tolerable show of virtue for Peter to win encomiums at any time. He would brush his curly mop of hair away from his forehead, lift his eyes, part his lips, showing a row of tiny white teeth; then a dimple would appear in each cheek and a seraphic expression (wholly at variance with the facts) would overspread the baby face, whereupon the beholder ... would cry "Angel boy!" and kiss him. He was even kissed now, though he had done nothing at all but exist and be an enchanting personage, which is one of the injustices of a world where a large number of virtuous and well-behaved people go unkissed to their graves! ~ Kate Douglas Wiggin

None of this…none of this…whatever you call this." She waved her hand to encompass everything. Kissing. Taking her blood. Seducing her. Ordering her around. Setting perimeters. All of it.
His black gaze never left her face. His eyes as still as those of a leopard scenting prey. Avid. Burning. Intense. He took her breath away with his eyes. Hypnotized her. Cast a spell over her.
Tempest pulled her gaze from his, from the seductive, black velvet trap. "And stop that, too," she said decisively, despite the fact that he made her hungry for him.
"Stop what?"
"Stop looking at me that way, it's definitely out. You can't look at me that way. It's cheating."
"How am I looking at you?" His deep voice dropped even lower, the cadence soft and husky. Mesmerizing. "Okay, that's out, too. No talking in that tone of voice," she declared staunchly. "And you know very well what you're doing. Act normal."
His white teeth gleamed at her, nearly stopping her heart. "I am acting normal, Tempest."
"Well, then, that's out, too. No acting normal. ~ Christine Feehan

I've never had white teeth. To be honest, I've never been told to do any of those horrible things - get your teeth whitened or your nose straightened. ~ Helena Bonham Carter

The Lama of the Crystal Monastery appears to be a very happy man, and yet I wonder how he feels about his isolation in the silences of Tsakang, which he has not left in eight years now and, because of his legs, may never leave again. Since Jang-bu seems uncomfortable with the Lama or with himself or perhaps with us, I tell him not to inquire on this point if it seems to him impertinent, but after a moment Jang-bu does so. And this holy man of great directness and simplicity, big white teeth shining, laughs out loud in an infectious way at Jang-bu's question. Indicating his twisted legs without a trace of self-pity or bitterness, as if they belonged to all of us, he casts his arms wide to the sky and the snow mountains, the high sun and dancing sheep, and cries, Of course I am happy here! It's wonderful! Especially when I have no choice! ~ Peter Matthiessen

Initially, I used to cart coke from the West Melbourne Gasworks -12 tonne a day, 150-pound sacks. I'd come home looking like Al Jolson at the end of the day - white teeth, black face ... A good hard day's work. ~ Lindsay Fox

Everything looks stark and vivid and frozen, as though drawn precisely and outlined in ink - parents' smiles frozen, camera flashes blinding, mouths open and white teeth glinstening, dark glossy hair and deep blue sky and unrelenting light, everyone drowning in light - everything so clear and perfect I'm sure it must already be a memory, or a dream. ~ Lauren Oliver

For so uncaring is life constructed that a minute before a happy man kills a child he is still happy and a minute before a woman screams with fear she can close her eyes and dream of the sea and the last minute of a child's life this child's parents can sit in the kitchen and wait for sugar and speak of their child's white teeth and about a rowing boat and the child itself can close a gate and start walking across a road with a few lumps of sugar wrapped in white paper in its right hand and this entire last minute nothing see except a long, shiny river and a broad boat with silent oars. ~ Stig Dagerman

She was not expecting him to smile. And so, when he did- a wicked, wolfish grin that shook her to her toes- she was completely unprepared. A burst of heat spread through her, and her heart began to pound. She couldn't stop staring at his white teeth, his wide, soft lips, the single dimple that appeared in one cheek.
'He was more handsome than he had ever been. ~ Sarah MacLean

The woman, one of those usually known as a good-time girl, was famous for the premature portliness which had earned her the nickname Boule de Suif. Small, round as a barrel, fat as butter and with fingers tightly jointed like strings of small sausages, her glowing skin and the enormous bosom which strained under the constraints of her dress - as well as her freshness, which was a delight to the eye - made her hugely desirable and much sought after. She had a rosy apple of a face, a peony bud about to burst into bloom. Out of it looked two magnificent dark eyes shaded by thick black lashes. Further down was a charming little mouth complete with invitingly moist lips and tiny, gleaming pearly-white teeth. She was said to possess a variety of other inestimable qualities. ~ Guy De Maupassant

The mad scientist is going to chase you around with a hypodermic needle, Gregori," she teased.
Gregori lifted an eyebrow, his face an unreadable mask,the pale eyes glittering with more than menace. White teeth flashed,a baring of fangs.
"Maybe not," Gary conceded. "Not the best idea after all."
Savannah was up and moving with hersensuous grace to fit herself beneath Gregori's shoulder. She looked impossibly small next to the big Carpathian, delicate, fragile even. It wasn't so much Gregori's height but the rippling muscles, the thickness of his arms and chest, and the power emanating from him. Her face was turned up toward his, her soft mouth curved with laughter, in no way intimidated by him.
Gregori's arm swept around her and crushed her to him, nearly enveloping her completely. "She thinks I am going to take her on this ridiculous vampire hunt."
"She's right,too,isn't she?" Gary grinned at him.
"Unfortunately," Gregori admitted. ~ Christine Feehan

I was sure the door was locked, so I immediately stuck the bobby pin inside and jiggled it around for a while. Then I gave up and looked at James Bradshaw. He grinned, showing his bright white teeth.
Then something occurred to me. He'd never said the door was locked. I dropped the bobby-pin and opened the door. ~ Embee

You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things." Ari grinned, showing gleaming white teeth with battle fangs fully extended. "They're not. ~ C.L. Wilson

He thought: Oh, I have fed on honey-dew. On wine and whiskey and champagne and the tender white meat of women and fine clothes and the respect of strong men and the fear of weak and the turn of a card and good horses and the crisp of greenbacks and the cool of mornings and all the elbow room that God or man could ask for. I have had high times. But the best times of all were afterward, just afterward, with the gun warm in my hand, the bite of smoke in my nose, the taste of death on my tongue, my heart high in my gullet, the danger past, and then the sweat, suddenly, and the nothingness, and the sweet clean feel of being born. ~ Glendon Swarthout

Right now, all white people are either wearing or coveting a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses. These sunglasses are so popular now that you cannot swing a canvas bag at a farmer's market without hitting a pair. In fact, at outdoor gatherings you should count the number of Wayfarers so you can determine exactly how white the event is. If you see no Wayfarers you are either at a country music concert or you are indoors. ~ Christian Lander

I tried to turn my heart to the living, to the place I was, but putting seed in land not owned by me or my family seemed alien. The sandy, gray-white soil looked like dirty beach sand, not fit for growing anything. It smelled like dust. Yet weeds and trees and wildflowers grew along the roads. When we drove into town, we passed dense, impenetrable woods and fields of corn, peas, and peppers. Such new combinations of seemingly poor soil and happy flora puzzled me. Everywhere I went, I picked up the dirt, examining it for clues. Bringing anything out of such soil would require a whole new language on my part. I imagined there must be something richer and darker under the gray sand, or some trick the farmers all knew. Trick or no trick, what I had always been able to do well now seemed inaccessible. Still, I searched the yard around our house for the best spot to plant my fall garden. ~ Rhonda Riley

There was a strong but not unpleasant smell- moist earth, decomposing leaf matter, new flowers beginning to catch the day's sun- and great fat bumblebees were busy already collecting pollen from a profusion of small pink and white blooms. Blackberries: Sadie surprised herself by dredging up the knowledge. They were blackberry flowers, and in a few months' time the bushes would be heavy with fruit. ~ Kate Morton

He got in beside her and impatiently reached for her seat belt, snapping it in place. "You always forget," he murmured, meeting her eyes.
Her breath came uneasily through her lips as she met that level stare and responded helplessly to it. He was handsome and sexy and she loved him more than her own life. She had for years. But it was a hopeless, unreturned adoration that left her unfulfilled. He'd never touched her, not even in the most innocent way. He only looked.
"I should close my door to you," she said huskily. "Refuse to speak to you, refuse to see you, and get on with my life. You're a constant torment."
Unexpectedly he reached out and touched her soft cheek with just his fingertips. They smoothed down to her full, soft mouth and teased the lower lip away from the upper one. "I'm Lakota," he said quietly. "You're white."
"There is," she said unsteadily, "such a thing as birth control."
His face was very solemn and his eyes were narrow and intent on hers. "And sex is all you want from me, Cecily?" he asked mockingly. "No kids, ever?"
It was the most serious conversation they'd ever had. She couldn't look away from his dark eyes. She wanted him. But she wanted children, too, eventually. Her expression told him so.
"No, Cecily," he continued gently. "Sex isn't what you want at all. And what you really want, I can't give you. We have no future together. If I marry one day, it's important to me that I marry a woman with the same backgroun ~ Diana Palmer