Quotes About Suspense

I didn't look over my shoulder; there wasn't a sound behind me on the pavement, but I knew he was coming slowly after me. The crawl of the skin up and down my back told me. Little needles of warning that gathered at the back of my skull told me. I'd never known until then that the jungles aren't so very far behind us, after all, and tails, and four feet instead of two. Where else did those symptoms come from? ("Don't Wait Up For Me, Tonight")

Then without any warning the car stopped. They were there. "The ride's over," someone said. "End of the ride." For a moment nobody got out. They just sat there. The driver cut the ignition, and after that there was silence. Complete, uncanny silence, more frightening than the most threatening noise or violence could have been. Night silence. A silence that had death in it. ("The Number's Up")

The girl's face was the color of talcum. Her uncle's was a death mask, a bone structure overlaid by parchment. Shane's was granite, with a glistening line of sweat just below his hair line. He'd never forget this night, the detective knew, no matter what else happened for the rest of his life. They were all getting scars on their souls, the sort of scars people got in the Dark Ages, when they believed in devils and black magic. ("Speak To Me Of Death")

Her heartbeat began to pound faster. Thirteen's eyes were sweeping over her body. A slow, deliberate glance. "Can he—can he see through the mirror?" His gaze felt like a hot touch on her skin. "Of course not" was Dr. Wyatt's instant response. The doc sounded annoyed with her. Her shoulders relaxed. Subject Thirteen smiled. Damn.

Thirty-nine murders in forty-eight hours. And all of them in this room. It doesn't add up. [Reflects.] Goddamn it, it doesn't add up. [Pause.] It doesn't add up, I say.

For a while, my favorite movie was 'Vertigo.' Everything in that movie was captivating to me.

I'd read one too many crime novels where the victim was just a name: body number one, dead woman number 12. I understood fear, and I wanted to create characters who made readers say, 'Please, don't hurt this guy.' That's the key to suspense. It's easy to disgust a reader. It's much harder to make them care.

I often will write a scene from three different points of view to find out which has the most tension and which way I'm able to conceal the information I'm trying to conceal. And that is, at the end of the day, what writing suspense is all about.

My lord," came Daisy's anxious voice, delaying him briefly. "You will find her, won't you?" "Yes," he said without hesitation. "And then I'm going to strangle her.

He has eyes of yellow fire, a stride that clears mountains, and he speaks in a human voice as deep as a cave. At midnight, he may stop in front of your house and call out your name if he wants to take you for a ride. If you go with him, he'll fly you across earth and oceans…and if you ever return, your life will never be the same.

If you have enough unanswered questions, you have a certifiable mystery, and those are impossible to resist.

Lisa Marie Rice thrilled fans and new readers alike when she returned to the world of her popular Midnight Series with Midnight Vengeance and Midnight Promises. This June, in Midnight Secrets, we get to fall in love with her cracktastic and sexy romantic suspense series all over again.

And watch for Midnight Fire, the next book in the Midnight series, coming soon!

Lisa Marie Rice

The sound of a boot heel striking her hardwood floor. The darkness coalesced, gained an outline. A tall, broad-shouldered figure dressed in black stepped forward. A deep voice said, "I won't let you go to Worontzoff's house, Charity.

The cliffhangers are killer but more then worth it. Surrender can't come out fast enough.

Lisa Renee Jones

Lisa Renee Jones

Je n'ai envie de rien, je ne sais pas quoi faire, je ne veux pas dormir, je ne veux pas rester éveillée. Je n'ai pas faim. Je ne veux pas être seule, je ne veux voir personne. J'ai l'impression d'être en sursis. Je suis juste complètement défoncée. La vérité se fait jour avec lenteur et me laisse vide... A... même A... ce que je m'en fiche.

There were photos of steel grappling hooks in the meat shed where the Watt Lake Killer had hung, gutted, flayed, and bled out his victims like slaughtered deer. Photos

Her eyes widened. "You undid my frock!" "No, I didn't," he said. "Who else do you think could have done it?" she said, backing away into the shadows again. "It was fastened when I came in here. Do you think one of the horses did it?

Hey," Shayne said through the door. "You going to stay in there all night, because we're getting tired of trying to eavesdrop from out here. Can't hear a damn thing.

If you're going to ask me if the muffins are low fat, you should know I'm running out of places to hide all the dead bodies.

Damn. A dead body. I hate it when that happens.