Quotes by Amy Jarecki

No man returns from Satan’s fire read to dance a reel.

The ruddy chieftain snorted. “You’ve not noticed? I reckon he’s as smitten as a bull in a paddock of heifers in spring.

The fairies will work their magic. They always do.

She moved her hips, his manhood sliding between her wet thighs, rekindling the hot craving at her very core. “How can I bring you pleasure?

I will always find you. You are in my soul.

Geordie stepped forward and took her hand. “I hope you’re not tired, because I intend to keep you on my arm until the music stops.

Though we are not together in body, know that I will always be with you in spirit. I will be in the whistling wind and in your dreams. Think of me in the joy of watching snow fall and know that I am thinking of you always.

When she straightened, he leaned back in the chair, his eyelids heavy. “My God, woman, you know how to make a man melt.

He hadn’t landed on the battlefield to save Christina, at least not entirely. He’d landed there because it was meant to be – because his destiny lay with a bonny woman who would capture his heart and show him honor and respect on a uniquely deep level that had been lost in the twenty-first century.

When their lips finally met, all the pent up emotion within Christina’s breast surged, funneling into a whirlwind of heat. Pushing away all thoughts, she allowed herself only to feel. Lachlan could be so physical, so powerful, so brutal, but when he wrapped his arms around her, Christina felt invincible. Be it true or nay, she felt loved, and cherished, and valued. Reaching up, she slid her fingers through his locks. Soft waves of thick tresses contrasted with hardened male…. As his kiss eased, he cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. “I wish I could hold you in my arms forever.

My mum always taught that the truth will set you free.” “Did she now?” “Mm hmm,” Lachlan brushed the pad of his pointer finger over her cheek’s silken skin. “But she kept one truth hidden from me until very recently.” “What was that?” He gulped. “You know the truth thing on the medallion? “Aye.” “Well, if that’s my rallying cry, then it will mean the world to me if you trust that I’m not lying.” She let the disk drop back to his chest. “Ye can tell me anything, I’d reckon.” He needed to tell her the truth. “My father is – was William Wallace.

He took a step back to distance himself from her wicked, mind-consuming scent. In the future if he wanted to bamboozle an opponent in the karate ring, all he had to do was splash on some eau de Christina.

Before Christina could stop herself, her gaze dipped lower. Holy saints, the outline of his manhood stretched the cloth taut. She’d never seen a man so well endowed. Taking a deep breath, she pressed her hand against her forehead and tried not to swoon while she forced herself to snap her gaze to his face. “They’re braies, not box-ers.” She bent down, picked up his blue ones and held them up. “Ye ken?” “Right, bra-ie-s,” he said as if it were a new word for him. “How do you keep them up?

God, you’re beautiful,” he growled while his cock throbbed with need. “Ye keep telling me that and ye’ll have me believing it,” she said with the sexiest, most breathless voice he’d ever heard. His fingers sank into her supple flesh. Her breasts were so full, so pliable, he craved to have his mouth on them, craved to suckle her nipples and listen to every soft moan. “You’d best believe me, because whenever you’re near, I feel like a caveman.” “A wild beast?” He nearly roared. “The wildest imaginable.

God save him, she smelled of a field of roses and tasted sweeter than port wine. Drawing her hands over her mouth Charlotte gasped. “Hugh. How did we end up on the bed?” “I think we must have floated,” he whispered.

Steeling her resolve, she stepped further into the study. “Regardless if I have your blessing, I have made up my mind. I love Hugh Maclain. It is he whom I will wed.” Pap guzzled the remaining dregs. Slamming the bottle to the table with a belch, his gaze wandered to the hearth rather than to Charlotte. “No.” He drew the word out and it hung in the air and chilled like death. “You cannot marry a corpse.

He pulled her into his arms. Closing his eyes, he savored every inch of her small frame. God, why did she have to be the daughter of the Governor of Fort William? Why could she not be a simple lass from his clan. “Och, mo leannan, what am I to do with you?” She took in a stilted gasp. “Love me.

She held her finger to his lips. “We have a lifetime to reveal our secrets.” In a bold move, she took his hand and led him to the bed. Ever so eager to follow, Hugh’s mouth suddenly went dry. Hell, he couldn’t even manage a swallow. “Are you ready, my love?” he croaked. Licking those delectable lips, she nodded. “I want you more than the air I breathe.

Would you like to see where I will build your house, m’lady?” She grinned. “You mean our house?” He mirrored her smile. “Aye.” Taking her hand, he led her along the path to the mouth of the River Coe. They stood on a curved peninsula high above the river where it would be free from floods. Hugh spread his arms wide and looked across Loch Leven. “The hills of Glencoe will be our backdrop, the river of the Coe will be our music, and our galleys will sail through the water of the Leven to Loch Linnhe and out to sea. Mark me, my love, Clan Iain Abrach will rebuild, and will once again rule these lands.” He looked into her eyes and saw joy there. “And you will be my queen.

He kissed her temple. Would you read to me? You wouldnt grow bored? Not if you were reading, my love. Helen slipped off the bed, tiptoed into the main chamber and retrieved the book from the table. When she returned, Eoin had situated the candelabra to provide good light, and arranged the pillows for comfort. How wonderful it was to be with a man who actually cared enough to do simple things like fluffing the pillows. He opened his arms and beckoned her to him. Come and tell me what this storys about. It would be my pleasure, sir knight. Helen climbed up and snuggled into his arms. She opened the cover and read the title. The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle. She looked at Eoin and grinned. The story begins when the mystical knight, Sir Gromer Somer Joure, challenges King Arthur to discover what women desire most, or face dire consequences. He rested his chin on her shoulder and peered at the pages. You have me entranced already.