Quotes from Suzanne Brockmann

I wanted to fall in love with you -- a number ten kind of love -- and I pretty much convinced myself that I had. But that was stupid, because love doesn't work that way. You've got to be really lucky to get a ten at first sight. but that's what I wanted with you. - Ken to Savannah.

A good fiction writer can write any character or any story that she wants to write. The importance, IMO, is a burning desire to tell that person's story.

You can live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know.

Because first and foremost, Izzy was marrying Eden Gillman because he wanted her to keep on smiling at him, the way she was smiling at him right now. He wanted to be her hero.

The difference between dead and not dead had never been so hard to see. It was the slimmest of lines. Possible to cross at any given moment.

Um,' he said, because she was smiling at him and he was an idiot.

Then...you want to tell me what's going on with you and Deck?" Lindsey asked. "Nothing's going on," Tracy started to say, but changed it to a simple, "No." Lindsey, after all, wasn't an idiot. Naked plus naked equaled something, not nothing.

I was still a novice at the caped crusader super-sleuth thing, but it didn't take a degree from the Sherlock Holmes Detective School to see exactly what had happened here. Alison had come home, put her lunch in the zapper, poured herself a beverage, turned on her computer and . . . vanished off the face of the earth.

But he didn't seem surprised to see her. 'Hey.' 'Hey, yourself.' Okay, that was stupid. Her grandmother used to say Hey, yourself. Great, she was turning into her grandmother at the most inopportune time. She didn't want to sound like a well-adjusted sixty-year-old.

Jane to Cosmo-- So you're thinking, you know, 'WTF, I thought we were going to do the horizontal mambo, and she has /questions/?' But really, I'm just keeping the conversation going until we can get into the bedroom, because I know that as soon as I touch you, I'm going to go up in flames, and I really don't want our first time to be on my office floor. Or on my desk. I mean, how would I ever get anything done again with that kind of vibe coming off of it?

How can you sit here and know that day... three I'm not going to be driving you crazy because I laugh like a horse or...or... dress up your penis in Barbie clothes?

Bobby laughed. Not at loud. He would never laugh in his best friend face when he went into overprotected brother mode. But inside in his own head, he was rolling over the floor in hysterics. Outside of his head, he only lifted a quizzed eyebrow.

Relentless repetition was usually needed when dealing with alcohol and idiots.

While I sleep, and I sleep often these days, he spends much of his time in the church downtown. The very one I never could convince him to attend. He claims he is praying. But I know he is trying to strike a bargain with our Maker. One hand of Black Jack, I know he says. Winner gets to keep the girl. I know for sure, were J. granted that game of cars with the Almighty, he'd go into it with both an ace and a jack up his sleeve.

And I'm standing there, and I think, damn. I think, this is it. I'm going to die. Right here, right now—simply because I am a black man in an American city.

I have an IQ that could gain me admission to the damn Mensa Society, but that's not what people see when they look at me. They can't see any of that. They can only see the color of my skin. They see a six-foot-five black man. They see someone they think might be armed and dangerous.

You'd think the jolt of suddenly being hit by a human bullet would've woken the guy up, but he'd completely checked into the stupor suite at the Hotel Hypoxia.

He met her eyes in the mirror. "I thought you weren't talking to me ever again." "I'm not," she said. ... "I'm talking to myself while you eavesdrop.

Dr. Heissman laughed and immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm just so used to what I think of as squeezing water from a stone syndrome. SpecWar operators are not big on admitting to what they perceive to be a weakness. Even though awareness of vulnerability ultimately leads to strength. Either from directly dealing with the issue or learning to work around it.

When/ the piano falls, not /if/. Oh, Alyssa. What a way to live. With potential pain and heartbreak lurking around every corner. And the only way to effectively counter it was to prepare for the worst to happen. Or maybe even to run away from the good things -- like love. If you didn't let yourself love someone, you couldn't lose them. No wonder Alyssa had fought so hard for so long to keep Sam out of her life.

And oh, /that's/ when I jumped him. Such willpower I'd had up to that very moment and it all crumbled. I kissed him, and Lord Almighty, he kissed me and we were both crying. "This is going to be hard," he said. "This life we're choosing." "Maybe so," I said, kissing him again, "but I'd prefer hard and wonderful any day over easy and run of the mill." --Dot to Walt on their interracial relationship.

He was Lieutenant again. Which meant he was so screwed. Sam or even Roger would have had at least a slim chance of talking her out of bringing him in, but not Lieutenant Starrett.

Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me when. I'm going to come with you." . . . "Tell me," he ordered. "I'm . . . yes!" she said. "Yes!" . . . "Can you really do that/" she asked. "Come on command?" --Mike Muldoon, Navy SEAL, to Joan DaCosta

inability to decipher words came from neglect, but Eve knew better.