Paranormal Romance Quotes

I envy people that know love. That have someone who takes them as they are.

I’d said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass.

Terrific. A bisexual dominant vampire with kidnapping expertise.

I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.

When you are in a room with Kurtis, whether its one or a hundred he is the only person that matters.

He’d used the amulet to read my thoughts again.
I pictured smacking him in the face.

Matt was almost completely naked. A tattered loincloth and an ugly chain with a yellow diamond were his only apparel.

Rough palms cradled my face while my fingers gripped the pillow on either side of his. Lips, teeth, tongue, mingled together. I ate him up and didn’t let go until I had to come up for air.

Kurt pick his way around testing for heat before taking each step and avoiding places where the ash was heaps up.

Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.

He wishes he could remember everything. Anything. He doesn’t sense a bone in his body that can feel compassion or worthiness. Self-pity hides away as well, the lowest form of emotion not even capable of resting in his wrecked mind.

Why did you wear heels? How are you supposed to fight a gargoyle in what you're wearing?

Emma was doing something nice for Simon? Hell must be enjoying the snow day.

Plus, I happened to be a history nerd. Why else would I be interested in a guy born in the year 519?

If I were to lock you up in a dungeon, I guarantee you would not be bored.

The last declaration he'd made to me hung between us. The L word. The one that had nothing to do with like.

The combination of razor-sharp wit (completely real) and his credentials (completely fake) had won them over in the end.

As for peace, it was never free and laws were made to be broken. Peacemaker or lawbreaker, someone, somewhere always paid the price no matter what side of the words they were on.

Out of misery, comes unexpected joy.

He who writes is the martyr, seen through the eyes of the unsuspecting doll.