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Famous Elizabeth Boyle Quotes

“It's not so much that history is written by the victors, as the old saying goes, but the powerful do often have the capacity to make themselves heard and to erase the voices of others.”

EducationHistoryPowerVictoryAuthorityStorytellingControlNarrative VoiceMedieval HistorySilencing Others
Book:Fierce Appetites: Loving, Losing and Living to Excess in My Present and in the Writings of the Past
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“History is full of incremental improvements and revolutionary convulsions - often these are followed by reactionary backlashes in which rights are revoked, inequalities re-established.”

HistoryRevolutionStorytellingInequalityReckoningBacklashMedieval HistoryMedieval Poetry
Book:Fierce Appetites: Loving, Losing and Living to Excess in My Present and in the Writings of the Past
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“She wanted his touch, wanted him to find that spot where her need left her begging and hungry. Anxious and half mad. And when he touched her, teased her open, slid his finger over the wetness and inside her, her hips arched up, welcoming his touch. "Oooh," she gasped, as his finger slid over her again, swirling in a circle and then pressing down right where it was the tightest and vibrating against her until she was nearly at her peak. "Please-”

Hot Sex Scene
Book:The Viscount Who Lived Down the Lane
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“For here he was about to take her to that passionate brink and she reached upward, her hips rising, her breath catching as she dared not even exhale... Yet he stopped, and let himself go farther down, until his lips blew a hot, steamy kiss over her sex, leaving her gasping, and then it was his tongue on her, lapping at her, drawing her into his mouth and sucking at her sex. He'd slid his fingers inside her again, easing their way in, but it was his mouth, teasing over her, that left her gasping for air, reaching upward, nearly at that brink.”

Hot Sex Scene
Book:The Viscount Who Lived Down the Lane
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“Wakefield," she gasped, as her world began to tighten, as her hands fisted onto his jacket, her eyes grew wide open and looking at him. They were still dark, still dangerous, so very full of passion, but she would have followed him, devil that he was, anywhere in that moment. She was lost and he would show her the way. "Pierson," he whispered back, his finger delving into her, sliding over her sex and sliding back inside her. Deeper. Harder. She rocked against him, rode his touch, his strokes. And when she said his name again, called it, gasped it, it was because he'd taken her over that edge, carried her into a world she couldn't have imagined. "Pierson!" she cried out, her body quaking, falling, rising all at once. "Oh, Pierson, yes!" For now she knew the way.”

Hot Romantic Suspense
Book:The Viscount Who Lived Down the Lane
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