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Deanna Raybourn

Deanna Raybourn Books

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A Grave Robbery

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“Something had shifted between us, faintly, but the change was almost palpable. Our friendship had sat lightly between us, an ephemeral thing, without weight or gravity. Once, in the Boboli Gardens, under the shadow of a cypress tree on an achingly beautiful October afternoon, he had kissed me, a solemnly sweet and respectful kiss. But weeks had passed and we had not spoken of it. I had attributed it to the sunlight, shimmering gold like Danaë's shower, and had pressed it into the scrapbook of memory, to be taken out and admired now and then, but not to be dwelled upon too seriously. Perhaps I had been mistaken.”

FriendshipRelationshipRomanticKissDescriptionFriends To LoversAllusionDeanna RaybournLady Julia GreySilent In The Sanctuary
Book:Silent in the Sanctuary
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“He had strong, steady hands, and I could tell from looking at them there was little he couldn't do. Mossy always said you could tell everything you needed to know about a man from his hands. Some hands, she told me, were leaving hands. They were the wandering sort that slipped into places they shouldn't, and they would wander right off again because those hands just couldn't stay still. Some hands were worthless hands, fit only to hold a drink or flick ash from a cigar, and some were punishing hands that hit hard and didn't leave a mark and those were the ones you never stayed to see twice. But the best hands were knowing hands, Mossy told me with a slow smile. Knowing hands were capable; they could soothe a horse or woman. They could take things apart -- including your heart -- and put them back together better than before. Knowing hands were rare, but if you found them, they were worth holding, at least for a little while.”

LoveHandsRomancePassionCompassionRomanticExperienceDeanna RaybournA Spear Of Summer Grass
Book:A Spear of Summer Grass
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“She drew in a deep breath, mastering herself. “Forgive me. My nerves are worked to pieces.” “And still you are one of the most composed women of my acquaintance,” I told her truthfully. “Composure that is hard won and the result of long practice,” she assured me. “I learnt long ago that when is only half-British, the other half will be blamed for every evil of temper or habit. I schooled myself in deportment, so that the part of me that is Egyptian may never be held up as a pattern for degradation or vice. I became more British than any Englishwoman I knew. And still, every syllable I speak, every gesture, every thought is examined by society. I could take tea with the Queen at Windsor everyday and twice on Sundays and I would still not be English enough for some.” She spoke without bitterness, but there was a fatigue to her resignation and I began to understand the weight she carried with her at all times.”

PeopleWomenRacismReputationComposureDeportment
Book:A Treacherous Curse
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“The man whirled, his hands still gripping the animal's skin, his face perfectly illuminated by the fire. He was half in shadow, and the shadow revealed him slowly. His left eye was covered by a black leather patch, and thin white scar raked his brow and the cheekbone below. The carried on, down the length of his neck, into the thick black beard, twisting under his collarbone and around his torso. They marred only the skin, I noted, for the muscles beneath were whole and strong, and the entire impression was one of great vitality and energy, strength unbridled. He looked nothing so much as a fallen god working at a trade. "Hephaestus at the forge," I murmured, recalling my mythology....”

MythologyStokerVeronica Speedwell
Book:A Curious Beginning
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“And then the bastard smiled at me. He smiled the same smile I’d seen a thousand times. A hundred thousand. It was the smile that said, 'I know best.’ The smile that said, ‘I’m better than you.’ The smile that said, 'I'm safe here and you're not.' The smile that said, 'I have a dick, so I win.’ Rage rolled up in me like the sea and I felt it sweep over my head, threatening to drown me. And then I heard a voice, small but still. A voice I hadn’t heard in forty years. I closed my eyes and listened. ‘It isn’t your anger that will make you good at this job, it is your joy.’ The rage ebbed and in its place, only happiness. Fierce, rampant happiness. It wasn’t the prettiest fight I’d ever been in but it was the most ferocious.”

MenFightingFeminismAgingPatriarchy
Book:Killers of a Certain Age
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“Because there is no power on earth that could make me abandon our friendship. There is no deed you could confess so dark that it would make me forsake you. You said of us once that we were quicksilver and the rest of the world mud. We are alike, shaped by Nature in the same mold, and whatever that signifies, it means that to spurn each other would be to spit in the face of whatever deity has seen fit to bring us together. We are the same, and to leave you would be to leave myself.”

True LoveLoyaltyTrue FriendshipSelfless Love
Book:A Treacherous Curse
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“Stoker to Veronica. I thought it was love but I was so very wrong. I have never known love at least not until..... I thought at some point I would have a great love like that. A woman fashioned by the gods just for me as I had been made just for her. That we would find each other. That she was waiting for me but I did not wait for her. I married a base metal when the gods had  promised me gold.”

RegretBittersweet
Book:A Treacherous Curse
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“I'm a woman. Guilt is our birthright. Guilt if we want to be mothers, guilt if we take the pill instead or choose to abort. Guilt if we stay home with our kids or guilt if we work. Guilt if we sleep with a man, guilt if we say no. Guilt if we're lucky enough to survive for no good reason. I'm so damned sick of it. I've never been so tired of anything in my life. I just ... I just want to go to sleep forever!”

InspirationalHumorFeminismWomen Empowerment
Book:Killers of a Certain Age
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“Why do they all have such unfortunate names? First Parthenope Fleet. Now Undine Trevelyan. Why do we never meet a Mary Smith I should like, just once, to meet a Mary Smith." "What sort of interesting things would ever befall a Mary Smith?" I demanded. "Who would stab or poison or garotte a Mary Smith? It is unthinkable." "Not everyone of our acquaintance needs be murdered, Veronica. In fact, some people find it preferable to make friends with normal folk." "How very depressing." I said, sipping again. "I pity them their small lives.”

NamesMurderHistorical MysteryVeronica Speedwell
Book:A Grave Robbery
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“Dove smiled in satisfaction. “Something I picked up in the south of France. It’s the purest jasmine from Grasse, which makes it very special indeed.” “Why?” Evie sniffed again. The scent was rich and sensual, curling against her like a cat and warming itself on her skin. “Child, jasmine is one of the most seductive scents imaginable, and the stuff from Grasse is the finest in the world. In the little village where I collected that, the farmers won’t even let their nubile daughters walk through the fields when the flowers are ripe for fear they won’t be able to control themselves.” “I can see why,” Evie murmured. The heavy fragrance was intoxicating, and she felt like someone entirely new.”

Jasmine
Book:Whisper of Jasmine
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“—¿Qué ocurre? ¿Es que te da miedo que pierda el control? Deja que te hable del control, esposa mía. He pensado mucho en él durante estos últimos meses, ¿y sabes a qué conclusión he llegado? A que es una ilusión. Durante toda mi vida me he enorgullecido de tener el control. Ha sido lo único constante durante mi precaria existencia. Me ocurriera lo que me ocurriera, yo tenía la capacidad de ejercer el dominio sobre mí mismo. Reprimía las visiones porque podía hacerlo. Era lo único que tenía. Yo abrí la boca, pero él no me permitió decir nada y continuó hablando con la voz tensa de emoción. —Lo único que tenía era el control, y ahora lo estoy perdiendo, ¿lo entiendes? El día de nuestra boda prometí que te protegería, y después te prometí, como un idiota, que te dejaría participar en mi trabajo. Pensaba que podría hacerlo, que podría controlar el miedo que siento por ti, el terror que siento por si te ocurre algo, pero no puedo. No puedo dominarlo del mismo modo que no puedo dominar lo que me ocurre cuando llegan las visiones. Me he pasado toda la vida manteniendo a raya estas emociones, y ahora resulta que la lógica y el control, mis únicos amigos en este mundo, me han abandonado. Construí mi vida y mi carrera profesional basándome en ellos, y me han dejado cuando más los necesitaba.”

BrisbaneLady Julia
Book:The Dark Enquiry
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“—Ahora lo entiendo —dije, con la voz amortiguada contra su hombro—. Lo entiendo de verdad. —¿Entender qué? —Lo que se siente al ver que la persona que más quieres en el mundo está en peligro. Antes no lo sabía de verdad. Y al ver a Felicity apuntándote al corazón con la pistola, de repente me sentí una estúpida por no haberlo sabido. —¿Saber qué? —Lo salvaje que es. No tiene nada de razonable ni de lógico. Tenías razón al decir que pierdes el control en lo que se refiere a mí. Yo no podía controlar lo que iba a hacer. Provoqué la explosión porque no podía pensar en otra cosa que en salvarte. No pensé en lo peligroso que era para mí y para los demás. En ese momento solo me importabas tú. Solo tú. Y habría hecho cualquier cosa por salvarte. Habría pagado cualquier precio, habría cometido cualquier pecado, habría vendido mi alma con tal de salvarte.”

BrisbaneLady Julia
Book:The Dark Enquiry
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“When the wind is right and the cloud is gone, you can see down this road as far as Darjeeling," I told her. "But it is a long and difficult road, full of perils, and if a traveller on foot were to look at the length of it, his spirit would be overcome and he would sit down and refuse to go any further. You must not look to the end of the road, Portia. Look only to the step in front of you. That you can do. Just one step. And you will not make the journey alone.”

IfsLooksLongEndsWould BeSpiritDifficultCan DoStepsGoneJourneyFeetFrontsWindOvercomingDown AndCloudsRefuseJust OneLengthPerilTravellerEnd Of The RoadJourney Alone
Book:Dark Road to Darjeeling
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“She left me then, surrounded by my extravagantly simple finery and I sat for a long time, uncomfortable both with the person I had been and the person I was finally becoming. Caught between the two of them, I felt rather lonely, as one often does with a new acquaintance.”

PersonsLongDoeTwoLeftFeltSimpleBecomingLong TimeLonelyCaughtUncomfortableSatAcquaintanceNew AcquaintancesShe Left Me
Book:Deanna Raybourn Lady Julia Grey Volume 1: Silent in the Grave\Silent in the Sanctuary\Silent on the Moor
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