#sienna

Sienna, meet Zacharel. He's a warrior angel for the One, True Deity. Zacharel, meet Sienna. She's mine. ↗

— Gena Showalter

#sienna #zacharel #paris

I would think you an utter fool if you did not doubt me, warrior. Instead, I am forced to respect your uncommon intelligence. Now what, do you suppose, should I do from there? ↗

— Jacquelyn Frank

#sienna #intelligence

Her little fists pummeled at him, and he accepted the abuse. Until he realized she’d made an improper fist and was actually hurting herself. He wound an arm around her waist, spun her and slammed her into the hard line of his body to still her. “Let me go!” “In a minute.” As she struggled, he pulled her thumb out from beneath her fingers and rearranged her fist. “Hit like this.” Done, he released her. ↗

— Gena Showalter

#sienna #abuse

She blew out a breath between gritted teeth. “Sometimes I really want to”—a frustrated sound—“bite you!” He froze. “I might let you.” “I won’t do it if you’d enjoy it. ↗

— Nalini Singh

#hawke #sassy #sienna #snow

When he put the old-fashioned mechanical toy on her palm, she stopped breathing. It was a tiny representation of an atom, complete with colored ball bearings standing in for neutrons, protons, and on the outside, arranged on arcs of fine wire, electrons. Turning the key on the side made the electrons move, what she’d thought were ball bearings actually finely crafted spheres of glass that sparked with color. A brilliant, thoughtful, wonderful gift for a physics major. “Why magnesium?” she asked, identifying the atomic number of the light metal. His hand on her jaw, his mouth on her own. “Because it’s beautifully explosive, just like my X. ↗

— Nalini Singh

#explosive #hawke #lovers #sienna #beauty