When a man writes a romance, the woman dies. When a woman writes one, it ends all tidy and sweet.
Julia QuinnIt wasnโt even desire. It was far more than that. It was love. Love. With a capital L and swirly script and hearts and flowers and whatever else the angelsโ and yes, all those annoying little cupidsโwished to use for embellishment.
Julia QuinnAnd if you say that's because you lot barged into her home like a herd of mentally deficient sheep, I'm disowning all three of you.
Julia QuinnThere were only so many ways a manโs heart could break, and he had a feeling his couldnโt survive another puncture.
Julia Quinn