Quotes from Suzanne Brockmann

Forget about writing to Penthouse. This one was going to be a story for their grandkids.

After all, the past wasn't something that could be changed by fretting. Or by regretting

What's the point of complaining. It just makes the people around you feel bad too." - Savannah

The look in his melted-chocolate eyes was now completely non-Disney.

take advantage of this beautiful, precious, God's gift of a day.

During the last few hours of the trip, he and Tess had drilled procedures and done a whole lot of worst-case-scenario type war-gaming. He was now as convinced as he'd ever be that she knew what to do and where to go if Godzilla attacked Kazabek...

And I was thinking with a part of my anatomy that has nothing to do with my brain." Veronica had to laugh at that. "Oh, really?" "Yeah," Joe said. His smile grew softer, his eyes gentler. "My heart." And then he kissed her.

His body against hers, inside hers, that slow slide out and then home again, a miracle. And a miracle. And a miracle and...Hot Targetsuzanne brockmann

I love you a ten. - Savannah to Ken

You're not my type for long-term imprisonment.

He wanted Eden, and he wanted Pinkie, but mostly he wanted Eden, because together they could make their own Pinkie.

All babies look like Alfred Hitchcock. Or Winston Churchill.

When both men had their shirt off, as they did right now, it was like living in an Abercrombie & Fitch ad- a six-pack celebration, complete with triceps and biceps galore. No doubt about it, Dolphina loved her new job.

Venting, even just a little, keeps the apeshits away".

What's better than loving and being loved?

You automatically lose when you give up.

So where's my hug.

You know, Savannah, if you cry, I won't tell anyone,' Ken said quietly. 'I promise.

But the truth is, home's an illusion. We try to create this place that's supposed to make us feel happy or safe, when in truth it's the people who are around us that matter. Where we are has nothing to do with it.

It's not my fault, what?" she countered, as she opened the package of chocolate chips. "That I make you 'feel' something--other than miserable?

You have no idea how much I appreciate your friendship," Jules said. Sam held out several bills. "Yeah, actually I do," he said. "It's probably as much as I appreciate yours.

Deck, I slept with this guy," Tracy said. "No you didn't," he said quietly. "You slept with Michael. Who turned out to not be real. That's what you should be upset about. That your perfect man was an act." She had to smile at that. "Perfect, except for the part where he moved to Maine. That sucked." He smiled, too. "Perfection's overrated, anyway. If he was real, you'd've been bored in a month. No one to argue with.

They were big and black and rubber—the kind of boots you might be wearing as you came in the kitchen door, shaking off your rain slicker and saying, Grab the young'uns, Ma. Crick's a-rising.

I'll be careful." He looked at her. "I promise." "Call me if you need me." "Cosmo." He turned to look at her. "It does go both ways. I don't want to get a call from Tom Paoletti and Decker every Memorial Day.