I swear, Oliver, when did you become such a stick-in-the-mud?” “I’ve always been a stick-in-the-mud.” Her brother cast her a thin smile. “I just hid it beneath all the debauchery.” She sniffed. “I wish you’d hide it again. It’s quite annoying.
Sabrina JeffriesWhat are you doing here?" she asked. "You forgot something when you left Halstead Hall," he said hoarsely. "What?" Her heart lept into her throat as he strode purposefully toward her. "Me.
Sabrina JeffriesI love you, Minerva. I love that you believe in me no matter what. I love how you take whatever you see and distill it into your books. I love your clever mind and your generous heart and every inch of your beautiful body. I love you even when you give me heart failure, by risking your life before my very eyes." He smiled tenderly. "I only hope in time I can prove worthy of your love.
Sabrina JeffriesYou can never know too much about writing. If you think you know everything, you're not leaving yourself open to learn. . . . The best writers are always learning, exploring, and trying to improve.
Sabrina JeffriesShe didn't want to think about how wrong this was or how foolish it was to give herself to a known seducer. Because tonight Oliver wasn't that man. Not to her. He was the boy who'd cried over his dead mother, the young man who'd lost himself in drink and women to forget the past, the marquess who'd vowed not to marry for money. He was the man to be her lover.
Sabrina Jeffries