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Anthony looked down at his evil clutches -- hands, he reminded himself, hands -- and grinned anew.

Julia Quinn

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Julia Quinn
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: January 12
Author
Writer
Evergreen State
Julie Cotler
Julie Pottinger
Hands
Clutches
Anthony
Grinned
Clutch
Anew
Reminded
Looked
Evil

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This thing between them, this bond—it wasn’t just passion, and it wasn’t wicked. It was love, and it was divine.
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My love has eyes blue as the sky. Her warm, bright smile makes me want to try To give her the world, And when she's curled Up in my arms where I can feel her touch, I realize again that I love her so much. My world has turned from black to white. Kissing in starlight, basking in sunlight, dancing at midnight.' ~John's poem for Belle
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Anthony sneezed and pushed them aside. Mother, I am trying to have a conversation with the duke. Violet looked at Simon. Do you want to have this conversation with my son? Not particularly. Fine, then. Anthony, be quiet.
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I don't like your tone, was Violet's standard answer when one of her children was winning an argument.
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It was heaven. Forget angels, forget St. Peter and glittering harpsichords. Heaven was a dance in the arms of one's true love.
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Nothing like trapping the gentlemen where they couldn't get away.
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He wondered if she'd mind if he threw her down on the blanket and tore off her clothing. (..) She looked heartbreakingly innocent. Alex sighed. She'd probably mind.
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I thought you wanted food, she gasped. I do, he murmured, tugging on the bodice of her dress. But I want you more.
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Raw toast, Lucas said grimly, shaking his head. It goes against the very nature of man.
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As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. Don't, he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, I'll be your blanket.
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Society is capricious and rewards the bad as often as the good. But it never rewards the quiet.
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She'd met Colin on a Monday. She'd kissed him on a Friday. Twelve years later. She sighed. It seemed fairly pathetic.
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He gave her his best smile. His best I-almost-died-so-how-can-you-deny-me smile. Or at least that’s how he hoped it appeared. The truth was, he wasn’t a very accomplished flirt, and it might very well have come across as an Iam- mildly-deranged-so-it’s-in-all-of-our-best-interests-if-youpretend- to-agree-with-me smile.
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The only words I'll allow from your mouth are, 'Oh, Gareth,' and 'Yes, Gareth.' What about 'More, Gareth'? He almost kept a straith face. That will be acceptable.
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For me, the dialogue is the easiest part of writing. It just always seems so obvious what a character will say. Maybe its because I talk too much!
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It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He’d thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he’d always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him. His heart had been right. There was only one.
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