Quotes from Christine Feehan

This is great! Just great, Mikhail. Call in the wolves to eat me alive. I find the idea so 'you.' So logical." He bared his white gleaming teeth at her like a hungry predator and laughed softly, teasingly. "It is not the wolves that would find you delicious.

I have no intention of rising above caveman mentality," he growled in her ear, his breath teasing tendrils of hair and sending little flames dancing through her bloodstream. "There are so many benefits for the caveman.

I took you into the shadows, which it strictly forbidden. I gave you a glimpse of the life we lead. I can bring you all the way in or leave you behind right now. You have to choose.

Grief does strange things to people.

Gregori sent me into a healing sleep. One does not surface when Gregori has elected otherwise.

There was so much about Jacques she didn't know. Just how powerful was he? If vampires actually existed, had they originated from Carpathians, as Jacques implied? Did that mean a cold, merciless killer nature lay buried in Jacques, waiting to surface? Seven years buried alive should do a great job of bringing any latent hostilities out.

Does anyone in this room remember they're in the military?" Griffen demanded. "Occasionally," Mack said, "when we get bad intel.

He both hated and loved that his woman was intelligent. The hating it was stronger right then than the loving it. He was going to tell the others to make certain their women were on the dumber side and "yes, anything you say is law" women

The woman, as small as she was, standing valiantly in the face of the threat the Saldi enforcers presented, sent heat rushing through his veins.

He recognized the distinctive percussion of the goblet-shaped drum, the dumbek. The kanun was a stringed instrument that produced beautiful sounds much like a harp. There was a ney, a flute that had an amazing tone to it.

Gregori went to her because he had to; he had no other choice. Nothing, no obstacle could have prevented him from getting to her side. His arm snaked out and dragged her to him, his mouth meeting hers with the ferocious intensity of the storm. He couldn't find the words, had no words to give her, only this, his fierce need to show her what she was to him. What she gave to him. Life. Everything.

It takes two people to put one of those thingies up?" But already

Vittorio, always the one to seek solutions verbally, had no middle gear. Either he was talking logically, or he was acting, and when he went into action, he made every blow count.

Everything about his relationship with Shea had gone wrong. He had inadvertently brought her over without her knowledge or consent. He had not even helped her through the difficult process. Worse, he had abused her whenever his mind fragmented. And now, to add to his long list of sins, he had viciously, joyously eliminated an enemy using her as his guide. He wasn't very good at being a husband.

His breath hitched. His lungs seized. She was the last thing he'd expected to happen because...frankly...a woman like her was so rare. He didn't know how to feel about it, but suddenly there was nothing else more important, not even Ferraro family business.

You hurt me, Mikhail, really hurt me." "I know, little one, I am sorry. Please forgive me." A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Is it really that easy?" His thumb erased a tear trickling down her face. "No, but it is all I have to give you at this moment.

Even if you kill them, Whitney will send others." "Maybe. Maybe not. Sometimes he backs off." He rinsed off her shoulders and back. She sighed and reached out to capture water in her cupped hand and then watch it slowly fall into the tub. "I just want you to talk to them first, Ezekiel. I don't think they'd endanger anyone else here . . .

His hand brushed her throat, the raw, ragged wounds and bruises that refused to heal. Without proper blood and the rejuvenating sleep of their people, her body could not heal itself. Look at you, what I have done to you. And I cannot guard you, as I must, as is my duty. I am of little use to you. Shea tugged at his hair, a tiny punishment. "I don't know, Jacques, you're more than adequate at giving orders.

We're going to build a life together. Be a family. Have a family. At least that's what I'm planning. I thought you were on the same page." "I am on the same page, Ezekiel. I'm as committed as you are to trying a life with you. Because I don't want to start off that life by killing two good men doesn't make me less committed, it makes me sane

Raven seems very nice, even if she's married to another wild man like you." She probably has lousy taste, just like me. She tacked the thought on deliberately. "What does that mean?" He tried to sound indignant, to keep her talking, to help her sustain her sense of humor. Jacques appreciated her courage and her unfailing determination to keep up her end, no matter how difficult it was on her. "It means she can't have much sense.

That man is dangerous, Jacques, even if he is your brother. And the healer is positively scary." "Did you think so?" "Didn't you? He smiled and talked so gently and calmly, but did you ever look into his eyes? It's evident he feels no emotion whatsoever.

His hair was the color of dark coffee beans, a dark espresso, drawn back and tied at the nape of his neck. His face was that of an angel or a devil, strength and power, with a sensual mouth that hinted at cruelty; his hooded eyes were black obsidian, black ice, pure black magic.

You must live, small one. You must live to save our race, to save all of mankind. There is no one alive on this earth who could stop me. Live for me, for your parents. Something stirred in his mind. Shocked that an unborn child could exhibit such power and intelligence, he nonetheless felt its presence, tiny, wavering, unsure. All the same the being was there, and he latched on to it, sheltered it close to his heart for a long while before he reluctantly allowed himself to sleep again.

He knew exactly what the ancients meant when they said one lifemate could not survive the passing of the other. He would not want to live in the world without her. There would be no Mikhail without Raven.