Monday, May 21, 2012

Sweet N Sexy Soulful Quotes

Hello romance fans! Last month, I featured books from authors of my special interest RWA chapter, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers. Because of the popularity of that post (I think there are more Highlander/Celtic fans than we realize) I decided to give our CHRW authors another moment in the spotlight.

The books I feature are from authors who were not afraid to be soulful, sappy, and/or suggestive when it came to their heroes. So, grab a seat, and pick up a pen and paper (or fire up your eReaders) so you can add these to your TBR collection.

If you've never heard of Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, then you should know that this fabulous group focuses on the very popular Celtic genre. From hot Scots to irresistible Irish warriors (and everything else in between) this clan is one of my very favorites. I encourage you to check them out at the link above.

Happy reading!

Taggart chuckled, pulling her closer while edging them to a smoother patch of ground. “I never said healing was my only magic. I just told ye I could heal.”

“You . . .” Hannah licked her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry. The caress of his heartbeat tickled against her breasts. Her traitorous nipples tightened, straining toward him. Rebellious desire battled with her common sense. She wished he’d press her closer. No. I’m not going down that road again. She pushed against his chest. “You can let me go now. I won’t throw the rock and I’m sure I’ve got my balance.”

“Are ye certain, Hannah?” Taggart smoothed his hand up the middle of her back, pulling her closer as though he’d read her mind.

Damn his eyes. Hannah cursed their intense blue depths that fluctuated whenever he spoke. Hypnotic eyes ordered her to let him in, mesmerizing her into melting wherever he touched her. The rock slipped out of her hand and she raised her fingertips to stroke the stubble of his jaw. “No.”

“No?” Taggart trailed his hand along her arm and laced his fingers into her hair.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered against his mouth while leaning her body into his. A gust of wind shoved against her back as though urging her to complete the kiss. Icy spray peppered across her body, but only heat surged through her veins. She opened to him. It had been too long. He tasted of ale, fresh air, and the sea. Hannah molded her body tight against the hardened length of him. Dear god, she risked bursting into flames.
~ Maeve Grayson, Eternity's Mark


Eyes widened, she turned around. Drostan pulled her into the warmth of his embrace and her entire body felt as though a weight had lifted. Her heart soared. He just had to say the words.

“Briana, the thought of ye staying here, I willnae lie, scares the hell out of me.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head and she heard his inhale of breath. “But what scares me more is never seeing ye again.”

Briana squeezed him tightly to her, lifted her face to look him in the eyes. “I feel the same way.”

“I have fallen for ye. I dinna ken how. Seems so fast but I have. I want to spend the rest of my days with ye. I want to ken ye more. I want to explore life with ye. I…I love ye.”
~ Eliza Knight, Highland Steam



"In any case, you cannot leave this room until you pay the penalty. And if you have a weapon, put it down," Lachlan said.

"I have no weapon," Angelique assured him.

"'Twill be the first time, then. You were not going to murder me and this imaginary woman you thought was in my bed?"

"Non."

His gaze trailed down over her. "'Haps I should search you to be sure. A man can never be too careful, especially when his wife has a fondness for daggers and pistols."

She took another step away from him and found her back against a wall. Surely he would not do as he suggested.

He cocked his head and watched her. "Come. I won't search you." He held out his hand. "I shall tell you a secret."

She shook her head, her pulse running away, as she wished to do. Heavens, she did not want to touch him. That would too easily distract her and give her those disturbing and frightening carnal urges again. He was so alluring, his deep voice rumbling gently over the words.

He moved in front of her and she committed the error of letting him trap her against the stone wall.

His seductive eyes darkened in the dimness and his lashes lowered. His tall body and the entrancing scent of masculinity enveloped her. She wondered if his tawny hair felt as silky as it looked.

He brushed his warm lips over her forehead, then kissed her there, an affectionate gesture such as she had not received in many years. She could not resist the persuasion of his fingers beneath her chin and did what they compelled her to do, lift her chin. He breathed hot against her mouth. Touched the corner with his. The shape and fullness of his lips aroused her, robbed her mind of rational thought. Her nipples tingled. He pressed his mouth fully to hers, tilted his head and flicked his tongue against her upper lip. A bolt of something dangerously sensuous shot through her. She opened, from shock or from obeying him, she didn't know. He stroked one finger along her cheek and slid his tongue briefly into her mouth. Excitement flowed through her like a searing river of sensation.

"Mmm. The secret is—" He kissed her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, wet and erotic, and toying with hers, then leaving before she was ready. "—you're the only one I want."
~ Vonda Sinclair, My Wild Highlander



“So you have experience then, helping people get over their fears.”

“Yes.”

“And what about getting over your own?”

Tara looked at him, her smile fading. “I’m working on that.”

“Is that what you’re doing here, then? Working on getting over your fears?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Or are you running away from them?”

Tara turned back to the stove and poured steaming water into two mugs. When she turned back around, she stiffened. Dominic had crossed the room, closing the distance between them.

“Tara.” Dominic took the mugs from her hands, setting them both down on the counter. “What are you running away from?”

When she said nothing, he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wish you would tell me. I might be able to help you.”

“I don’t need help,” she said, bracing when his fingers threaded into her hair.

“I think that you do,” he said quietly.

“What are you doing?” Tara asked, alarmed.

“I’m testing the limits of your fear,” he murmured, curving his other hand around her small waist.

“I—I’m not afraid.”

“No?” His hand settled on the back of her neck. The scent of the roses filled his lungs and he pulled her body against his. “I know you’re in some kind of trouble, Tara.” His voice as soft and gentle as the incoming waves. “I wish you would tell me what it is.”

“I told you.” Her nails bit into the counter. “I’m handling it.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “How?”
Sophie Moss, The Selkie Spell



Renee Vincent is an award-winning author of historical and contemporary romance.






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