#romance

Doesn't it scare you sometimes how time flies and nothing changes? ↗

— Ika Natassa

#romance #change

I Googled it sir ↗

— Red Phoenix

#art

I do so love the art of severing boundaries ↗

— Poppet

#vampire-romance #art

An editorial in the Los Angeles Times [1923] wistfully asked, 'Will eating chestnuts by crackling log fires become one of the lost arts preserved by a devoted people only in poetry and romance? ↗

— Susan Freinkel

#history #poetry #romance #art

You desire me. I can scent it on the wind.” He drew in a breath and licked his lips. “I have been waiting for your courage to bring you to me, but I have grown tired of our little game. ↗

— Stella Berkley

#fantasy #shifter #courage

Things on the essential list: vodka, Nine Inch Nails, a steady supply of mortal men, and an all-purpose bitchy attitude. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#humor #nin #nine-inch-nails #paranormal-romance #succubus

Home was his favorite place too. But home for him was anywhere Jane happened to be. Never in his life had he loved someone as much as he loved her. So much that it scared him sometimes. He pulled her against him and looked out over the city. He was in love with his wife. Yeah, he knew what that said about him. That he was a goner. Leg-shackled for life. Whipped by a short woman with a big attitude. Yep, that's what it said about him, and he didn't care. ↗

— Rachel Gibson

#humor #rachel-gibson #romance #see-jane-score #attitude

It is of no use mincing the matter; Dr John Marsh, after being regarded by his friends at home as hopelessly unimpressible—in short, an absolute woman-hater—had found his fate on a desolate isle of the Southern seas, he had fallen—nay, let us be just—had jumped over head and ears in love with Pauline Rigonda! Dr Marsh was no sentimental die-away noodle who, half-ashamed, half-proud of his condition, displays it to the semi-contemptuous world. No; after disbelieving for many years in the power of woman to subdue him, he suddenly and manfully gave in—sprang up high into the air, spiritually, and so to speak, turning a sharp somersault, went headlong down deep into the flood, without the slightest intention of ever again returning to the surface. ↗

— R.M. Ballantyne

#home

When she scooped up her clothes, opened his door, then snapped her fingers for a guard down the hall, Wroth watched like a bystander. “Pssst. Minion. I need these laundered. Very little starch. Don’t just stand there gawking or you’ll anger my good frenemy General Wroth. We’re like this.” He couldn’t see her but knew she was twining two fingers together. ↗

— Kresley Cole

#immortals-after-dark #kresley-cole #lore #myst #nikolai-wroth

His eyes drifted leisurely back up to my face and he smiled at me appreciatively, “Kelsey, when a man spends time with a beautiful woman, he needs to pace himself. I quirked my eyebrow at him and laughed. “Yeah, I’m a regular marathon alright.” He kissed my fingers. “Exactly. A wise man never sprints…in a marathon. ↗

— Colleen Houck

#beauty