Quotes from Suzanne Brockmann

And then he stood there, outside her apartment building, watching the lights go on in her apartment, angry and frustrated and dying to be up there with her, and wondering what on earth he was going to do now.

She was kidding. Wasn't she? God, maybe she wasn't. "Help," he said to no one in particular as he followed her inside.

If you want," he told her, "the dog'll go." "I want." "The dog really scares you that much?" She held out her hand, tried to hold it steady but couldn't. "No, I always shake like this.

See? All guys have lists. It's a guy thing," he protested, not old enough to know that all either of them could do now was grovel, apologize and pray for forgiveness.

What I meant to say," Bobby told her, moving close enough to catch her chin with his hand, so she now had to look up into his eyes, "was that I find you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.

His looks were the result of a genetic crapshoot.

You know, every time someone says that they'll try, I think of that scene in The Empire Strikes Back with Luke Skywalker and Yoda. You know, the one where Yoda says, 'Try not. Do or do not.

Prince Stefan's] family was of Eastern European descent, with some real royalty thrown in via a connection to Vlad the Impaler—who hung from a branch that Ian wouldn't kept secret had the family tree been growing in his yard.

describing Aaron, hero's brother] His hair was shorter and lighter, and his eyes were more green than blue. And even though he was tall, he wasn't quite super-sized. He was more sculpted, more … elegant. more slender and beautiful and less raw-boned. Less Stone Age and more Bronze Age—but till the kind of man who enjoyed living in a cave.

the rocking chair test." "Pretend that you're one hundred years old," Alicia would say, "and you're sitting out on your front porch in a rocking chair. Now think back on your life. What was it like? Do you have any regrets?

the landlord, Mr. El Cheap-o Thompkins

If she was going to live in Cow's Bowels, New York, she wanted the complete small town package. She wanted a Fourth of July parade, a country fair with an oxen pull and a pie-eating contest, and she wanted a little, homey mom-and-pop supermarket, run by Mr. Whipple himself.

Was it really called dry humping, if they did it underwater? Probably not. Crying shame that they both had their jeans on, because this was definitely one of those adrenaline-fuelled moments of passion with a total loss of inhibition, where need and desire trumped all reason.

I know it's none of my business, but does Wes know that you've got a thing for his sister?

now that I'm stuck here for an undetermined amount of time, it seems beyond foolish not to let me help." She took a bite for emphasis. "You could at least let me make you a sandwich," she added balefully through her mouthful. "That was me being respectful of your law degree," Ian said.

I figured it was probably best for me to leave that bicycle back there for a real emergency.

She could kiss him. She could lean forward right now and kiss him, and, like the man said, stop this nonsense. Instead, Kelly closed her eyes until she felt the car moving forward. She couldn't give in. She wouldn't give in. Not unless she wanted him to break her heart all over again.

What she wanted was right there, between them, pressed against her stomach—so big and accessible and user-friendly—neatly covered and ready to go.

He could see it in all their faces, too. Especially

You know, I can always tell when you're not really angry, because you get loud and you swear a lot. When the anger's real, you're quiet and it's way more scary.

She'd read in the paper about a woman who was so cautious, she refused to leave her house. And an airplane crashed into it.

Four pairs of hands went up, and the heavyset man peed on his shoe.

Yeah, Wes was going to kill him. But before he did, Bobby would ask them to put four words on his tombstone: It Was Worth It.

He was keeping his pants zipped, which actually wasn't as hard as it seemed, even after he'd gone for well over nine months without getting laid.