Quotes from Shiloh Walker

Damned planes. Too confining, too noisy—too fucking high in the air.

You can know who a person is simply by staring into their eyes.

Abby," he murmured, lifting a hand to curve around her neck. "I love you." A sob slipped free and she wrapped her arms around his waist. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck and cuddled her in close. As he bent around her, he whispered, "I've loved you so long, I can't remember what it's like to not love you. And I'll go to my grave loving you. You're my everything.

Important describes what I have to do by April 14. Important describes my license renewed, my bills paid, payroll... Abby. You're not important. You're everything.

She knew violence- and my, what a lovely thing to profess knowledge of.

So. Are you going to see him again? Technically, I haven't seen him at all . . . (Heroine is blind - LOL)

Put knowledge in the hands of stupid people, and it just made them more stupid.

Across the room, Nia said with a smirk, "Look at Tinkerbell going all mama-bear." Hope snapped, "Oh, shove the Tinkerbell crap up your ass." For about two seconds, Nia just stared at her. Then she started to laugh.

Things happen when they happen, not when you're ready for them.

Bad thing about fighters, though, too often they were forged in fire.

Gripping, nonstop action and one hell of a heroine. [on Eve of Darkness ]

Then he kissed her again. When he licked her through the silk, she moaned. Catching the fabric, he tugged it aside and licked her again. "Hot … fuck, yeah, you're hot." Hope shuddered and fisted her hands in his hair again. But this time, she tugged him closer, gasping out his name. He smiled against her and then proceeded to do to her what she'd been doing to him from the first time he'd laid eyes on her—driving him out of his fucking mind.

He had the sexiest damn voice, Lena thought. Sexiest voice . . . and he was still staring at her, too. She could tell, all but feel the warmth of his gaze. Feel it, almost like a ray of light traveling over her body, leaving seductive warmth in its wake.

She was easy to talk to, easy to look at it . . . and when she smiled at him . . . well, he couldn't call that easy. It hit him in the chest, in the weirdest damn way. Swallowing, she licked her lips and then she could have whimpered, begged for mercy, because she could taste him. Taste him, and it made her want to throw herself against him and kiss him. Again, and again .

He pushed up onto his heels and then pulled her up against him, one hand cradling the nape of her neck, the other splayed wide over her back. His mouth came down on hers and right before he kissed her, he muttered, "Fuck, you're going to drive me insane, I know it." Then his mouth crushed down onto hers. His taste was different—darker. Her, she realized. He tasted of her.

He rolled on top of her, his weight pinning her against the bed. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head back. "I missed ­you—fuck, why can't I stop thinking about you?" he muttered, his voice low and harsh, demanding.

Tipping her head, she stared into his tawny, hazel eyes, so intense, so burning-hot and all-consuming. Had she ever had a man look at her like that? Like she was all? Like she was everything? The center of his universe? Hell, screw the center … Law was looking at her like she was his universe.

Then he curled his tongue around her clit and Nia could have sworn she saw lights exploding. Her breath caught in her lungs, the muscles in her body went rigid. Nothing, absolutely nothing seemed to exist except for the way that man was teasing her closer and closer to climax, using his tongue in a way that was nothing short of diabolical.

Her breathing ragged, her body went lax under his. "We're not done," he rasped, fisting a hand in her dark, short hair. Law greedily took her mouth as he started to ride her again—deep, hard. So damned hungry, so damned hungry … If she'd had the breath, she might have told him to give her a minute. But even if she had had the breath? He would have stolen it away again.

When she reached the button of his jeans, his hips jerked and he squeezed his eyes closed, hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself and lose it the second she touched him. He hadn't done anything like that in ages, not since high school, but Nia shattered his control like nothing else.

My name. I have a name, and it's not Red Dragon. I am more than just the priestess's dragon. I am Eilrah, a man who wants you," he growled against her lips. "But you aren't a man. You only take this form when you feel like it," she replied coolly, turning her face aside.

Taylor worked a hand between them and stroked his thumb over the erect little nub of her clit. Lifting his head, he stared at her, watched as a harsh, broken sob fell from her lips. Her nails bit into his skin as she started to come and he gritted his teeth, holding back until he saw her going over. Then, and only then, did he bury his face in her neck and start to move again, hard, fast. He muttered her name, blind to everything but her…completely and utterly lost in her.

I think I fell in love with you before I even knew you, before I even saw you," he whispered, kissing her neck. "I feel like I've loved you my whole life, and I've just been waiting to find you.

This was the absolute last woman on earth he should want—she was trouble, in so many ways. She was troubled, and that was just one of the reasons he didn't need this. This was the absolute last woman on earth he wanted to want—she just plain and simple was trouble—he could feel that in his bones. And yet, as he stared into those big, green eyes, he did want. Hell, did he want.