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Tessa Dare

Tessa Dare Books

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“I have never been wistful a day in my life. I am entirely devoid of wist.” He tugged on his waistcoat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an engagement this evening. The women of London can’t pleasure themselves, you know. I mean, they can pleasure themselves. But on occasion they generously let me have a go at it.” “Who is she this time?” “Do you really care?” “I don’t know. Do you?”

PleasurePlayerLoneliness
Book:The Governess Game
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“A better man wouldn’t play this ‘sweethearts’ game with her when he knew very well it couldn’t lead to more. But he wasn’t a better man. He was Colin Sandhurst, reckless, incorrigible rogue—and damn it, he couldn’t resist. He wanted to amuse her, spoil her, feed her sweets and delicacies. Steal a kiss or two, when she wasn’t expecting it. He wanted to be a besotted young buck squiring his girl around the fair. In other words, he wanted to live honestly. Just for the day.”

CharacterHonesty
Book:A Week to Be Wicked
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“Because I’m good at it,” he said, sounding agitated now. “I am bloody great at it. And I was never good at anything. Because it’s the one place where I know that my success is mine, and my failure, too. In the ring, I might be facing an Irish dock laborer or an English tanner or an American freedman. When the bell rings, none of it matters worth a damn. It’s only me. My strength, my heart, my wits, my fists. Nothing I was given, nothing I took. I fight because it tells me who I am.”

PassionFightWorthRafe Brandon
Book:Say Yes to the Marquess
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“I can start by telling you you’re stubborn and impulsive and prideful. And generous and protective and passionate. In public, you ride like the devil and fill out a pair of buckskin breeches like pure liquid sin, but in private, you behave as though you’ve joined a monastic order. You’re kind to ugly dogs, and you’re patient with awkward sisters. Your kisses are sweet. And your life is worth something.” She fought back the emotion rising in her throat. “I’ll tell you who you are, Rafe. Anytime you find yourself in doubt. And I won’t even leave you bleeding.”

LovePassionCharacter AnalysisRafe Clio
Book:Say Yes to the Marquess
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“It's a fine, warm day,” Henry replied. “I thought a spot of fishing?” “Just the thing!” said Felix. “Will you join us, Lucy?” Lucy felt Kitty and Sophia staring at her. Well-bred ladies, evidently, did not fish. “Oh, no! I assure you, Mr. Crowley-Cumberbatch, I have given up those hoyden pursuits of my youth.” She turned to Toby. “I haven't been fishing in ages. I can't remember the last time.” “Really, Luce?” Toby sounded incredulous. “Henry—is it true?” Henry sawed away at a slice of ham. “If you count six days as ages, then I suppose it's true. But if you can't remember six days back, Lucy, and you've forgotten Felix's Christian name, I'm concerned for you. Perhaps you've been spending too much time with Aunt Matilda.”

HumorWomenFishingLadies
Book:Goddess of the Hunt
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“Gabriel Duke. You are a complete hypocrite." "A hypocrite? Me?" "Yes, you. Mr. I-Know-a-Hidden-Tresaure-When-I-See-It. You said you know how to spot undervalued things. Undervalued people. And yet you persist in selling yourself short. If I'm the crown jewels in camouflage, you're a..." She churned the air with one hand. "... a diamond tiara." He grimaced. "Fine, you can be something manlier. A thick, knobby scepter. Will that suffice?" "I suppose it's an improvement." "For weeks, you've been insisting you haven't the slightest idea what it means to give a creature a loving home. 'I'm too ruthless, Penny. I'm only motivated by self-interest, Penny. I'm a bad, bad man, Penny.' And all this time, you've been running an orphanage? I could kick you." "I'm not running an orphanage. I give the orphanage money. That's all." "You gave them kittens." "No, you gave them kittens." "You sent them gifts at Christmas. Playthings and sweets and geese to be roasted for their dinner." "It was the only business I could attend to on Christmas, and I don't like to waste the day. All the banks and offices are closed." She skewered him with a look. "Really. You expect me to believe that?" He pushed a hand through his hair. "What is your aim with this interrogation?" "I want you to admit the truth. You are giving those children a home. A place of warmth and safety, and yes, even love. Meanwhile, you are stubbornly denying yourself all the same things." "I can't be denying myself if it's something I don't want." "Home isn't something a person wants. It's something every last one of us needs. And it's not too late for you, Gabriel." She gentled her voice. "You could have that for yourself.”

HomeGenerousCharitableOrphanagePenelope And GabrielPenelope CampionGabriel Duke
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“Proper handling of a horse like this is no simple matter. He was trained to race, from birth. Not only to race, but to be the best. Once a champion, he was spoiled with attention and permissive handling. Add to that, he's an ungelded male, with a strong natural mating drive. It all adds up to a horse with a mile-wide streak of arrogance, bloody bored out of his mind. Without proper exercise and opportunities to mate, all that aggressive energy festers. He becomes moody, intractable, withdrawn, destructive." Ashworth raised an eyebrow at Bellamy. "Is it just me, or is this conversation becoming uncomfortably personal?" Spencer fumed. "I'm not referring to myself, you ass.”

MenHumorHorses
Book:One Dance with a Duke
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“I will insist you be man enough to take it. I won’t have you making light of my feelings, or making light of yourself—as if you’re not worthy of them. Because you are worthy, Colin. You’re a generous, good-hearted person, and you deserve to be loved. Deeply, truly, well, and often.” He looked utterly bewildered. Well, what did he expect, after the power he’d given her? He couldn’t compare a woman to a torrentially beautiful monsoon, and then look surprised that he’d gotten wet. “You reckless man.” She laid a touch to his cheek. “You really should be more careful with those compliments.”

LoveRomanceDeclarations Of Love
Book:A Week to Be Wicked
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“Good God. Good God. She kissed him with everything. As if she wanted to. As if she'd always wanted to. As if her small, slender body were nothing more than a cunningly crafted decanter of some bewitching potion. An essence of desire, aged and corked and waiting for years. As if in one single kiss, she'd sensed her chance to foist it all on him because she was weary of the burden. Take this sweetness, her kiss said. Take this passion. Take all of me.”

Romance
Book:Romancing the Duke
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“I wanted to kiss you. I can't explain why. I have no excuses. At any rate, don't worry. It was clearly a mistake, and I promise it won't happen agai-" Again. He kissed her again. Or rather, he kissed her for the first time- and he was so much better at it than she. This kiss could not be mistaken for an accidental collision mouths. Oh, no. He kissed with purpose. His lips had ideas. His tongue had plans. She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his muscled arms. He brushed his lips to hers in a series of chaste, yet masterful kisses. He swept a hand up her spine and into her hair, where he twisted and gathered the tangled locks in his fist. Then he tugged sharply, tipping her face to his and sending electric sensation over her every nerve. When her mouth fell open in a gasp, he reclaimed her lips, sweeping his tongue between them. Her first instinct was to shy away, but Penny fought against it. She reached higher, lacing her arms about his neck and holding tight. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. He tasted of soot and salt and... and of apples, strangely. Tart, smoky, just a hint of sweet. A lush, decadent pleasure unwound within her, snaking through her veins- as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years. Waiting on this moment. Waiting on this man.”

KissingPassionate KissPenelope And Gabriel
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“Damn, she just kept on surprising him. First with her beauty. Then with the illustrations. He'd been forced to accept that there was more to her character than he'd gleaned from her letters, but none of it fell too far outside the borders of his carefully mapped mental territory labeled "Madeline." She was privileged, sheltered, intelligent, curious, and far too crafty. But this... This was different. As he watched her with the tenants' children, his conception of her pushed against its established boundaries. He was forced to add new descriptors to his list. Ones like "generous" and "responsible" and "protective.”

CharacterMadeline GracechurchDescriptors
Book:When a Scot Ties the Knot
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“Trust me, I know how it stings when someone tells you the truth about yourself. It’s like catching a glimpse of your reflection in a looking glass when you’re not prepared. Intolerable. I was furious when I read your pamphlet—­but only because I knew it was the truth. I’d known it for some time. The reality set in somewhere around the Tropic of Capricorn. When I left you behind at Greenwillow Hall . . . I’d missed out.”

RegretReflectionSelf Realization
Book:Lord Dashwood Missed Out
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“Julian," she said huskily, "you were right the other morning. You know me so well. I'm not made for illicit affaires, all that sneaking around to avoid discovery." In the dark, her hands crept up to his shoulders, then his face. Her finger teased through his hair. "Why should we hide at all? Let all London see us together. I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I love you, and I want the world to know." He wanted to weep. For joy, for frustration. She was so brave, his beautiful Lily, and the situation was so damned unfair. It wasn't her fault that she made these heartrending declarations at a moment when their lives were probably in danger and he couldn't possibly reciprocate. That fault was his, for choosing to live the way he had and making the decisions he'd made. He didn't deserve her, didn't deserve her love. He most certainly didn't merit those warm brushes of her lips against his skin. But damned if he could bring himself to stop them. "We're in love, Julian. Isn't it wonderful?" "No," he murmured as she kissed him again. "It's not wonderful. It's a disaster." Her lips grazed his jaw, then his throat. "I can feel you speaking, and I know you're probably making some valiant protest. But you know I can't hear those words. Your body is making an altogether different argument, and I'm listening to it." Her fingers crept inside his waistcoat, splaying over the thin lawn of his shirt. "Take your heart, for example." Yes, take it. Take it and keep it, always.”

SweetTessa DareStud Club
Book:Three Nights with a Scoundrel
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“You've been hiding yourself, and you're good at it. A master of camouflage." She laughed. "Camouflage?" "That's the only possible explanation. You've made a frock from the same silk covering the drawing room walls, trimmed it with cat hair and feathers. Then when gentlemen visit, you stand still and blend in." "You have a surprisingly vivid imagination." "What I have is experience." He stopped in the road and turned to face her. "I've built a fortune by spotting things that are undervalued, dusting them off, and selling them at the proper price. I know a hidden treasure when I see one.”

CamouflageHidden TreasurePenelope And GabrielPenelope CampionGabriel Duke
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“He didn't need to read a book on childbirth to know that the longer this went on, thee greater the danger to both Marigold and her kid. "I'll do it." Gabe didn't know what the hell he was doing, but he was dead certain about one thing: He had to be in love with Lady Penelope Campion. Nothing less could have persuaded him to do this. Penny, this is for you. He rolled his sleeve to his biceps, drew a deep breath through his mouth, and shook out his hand. "I'm going in.”

BirthingMidwiferyGabriel DukeFor Her
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“He didn't need to read a book on childbirth to know that the longer this went on, the greater the danger to both Marigold and her kid. "I'll do it." Gabe didn't know what the hell he was doing, but he was dead certain about one thing: He had to be in love with Lady Penelope Campion. Nothing less could have persuaded him to do this. Penny, this is for you. He rolled his sleeve to his biceps, drew a deep breath through his mouth, and shook out his hand. "I'm going in.”

BirthingMidwiferyGabriel DukeFor Her
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“I don't want anyone fighting over me," Kate said. "It's not worth it." "Like hell it's not." Samuel turned to her. "Don't ever say you're not worth it, Katie. You're worth epic battles. Entire wars." Her heart pinched. "Samuel..." "Yes, Helen of Troy?" She thought she saw him wink as he backed away, reaching for a sword to match Evan's. After all this time...he would choose this moment to be charming.”

CutenessAww MomentChivalrous
Book:A Lady by Midnight
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“A man-beast?” Portia asked, her eyes widening. “Oh, I do like the sound of this.” She put pencil to paper again. Brooke leaned over her shoulder. “Are you taking notes for your novel or adding to your list?” “That depends,” she said coolly, “on what manner of beast we’re discussing.” She looked to Denny. “Some sort of large, ferocious cat, I hope? All fangs and claws and fur?” “Once again I must disappoint you,” Denny replied. “No fangs, no claws. It’s a stag.” “Oh, prongs! Even better.” More scribbling. “What do they call this . . . this man-beast? Does it have a name?” “Actually,” said Denny, “most people in the region avoid speaking of the creature at all. It’s bad luck, they say, just to mention it. And a sighting of the beast . . . well, that’s an omen of death.” “Excellent. This is all so inspiring.” Portia’s pencil was down to a nub. “So is this a creature like a centaur, divided at the waist? Four hooves and two hands?” “No, no,” Cecily said. “He’s not half man, half beast in that way. He transforms, you see, at will. Sometimes he’s a man, and other times he’s an animal.” “Ah. Like a werewolf,” Portia said. Brooke laughed heartily. “For God’s sake, would you listen to yourselves? Curses. Omens. Prongs. You would honestly entertain this absurd notion? That Denny’s woods are overrun with a herd of vicious man-deer?” “Not a herd,” Denny said. “I’ve never heard tell of more than one.” “We don’t know that he’s vicious,” Cecily added. “He may be merely misunderstood.” “And we certainly can’t call him a man-deer. That won’t do at all.” Portia chewed her pencil thoughtfully. “A werestag. Isn’t that a marvelous title? The Curse of the Werestag.” Brooke turned to Luke. “Rescue me from this madness, Merritt. Tell me you retain some hold on your faculties of reason. What say you to the man-deer?” “Werestag,” Portia corrected. Luke circled the rim of his glass with one thumb. “A cursed, half-human creature, damned to an eternity of solitude in Denny’s back garden?” He shot Cecily a strange, fleeting glance. “I find the idea quite plausible.”

Brooke
Book:How to Catch a Wild Viscount
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“Lady Penelope Campion- the aging, frazzled, unsightly spinster who... Who wasn't any of those things. Not by a mile. As fortune would have it, Lady Penelope Campion turned out to be a fair-haired, blue-eyed beauty. In his mind's eye, he could still see her sprawled across his bed in her dressing gown. Like an all-grown-up Goldilocks, having crept into his house uninvited to test the mattress. Too soft, too hard...? He didn't know her opinion, but Gabe's reaction was the latter. His cock was in its usual morning prime, standing at full mast.”

Penelope CampionGabriel DukeAroused
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“They don't have the time to take on animals with dietary restrictions and missing legs." "Do you think I don't know that? That's precisely why they're all here with me. No one else would take them. Angus, for example." She moved toward the Highland steer. "Some foolish merchant traveled to Scotland on holiday and decided to bring his wife a pet calf from the Highlands. Never stopped to think about the fact that he would grow." "Surely people aren't that stupid." "Oh, it happens all the time. But usually they make that mistake with pups or ponies. Not cattle." She shook her head. "They dehorned him in the worst, most painful way. When he came to me, the poor dear's wounds were infected. Infested, too. He could have perished from the fly-strike alone. That man was stupid, indeed. The only thing he got right was his choice of calf. Angus is exceedingly adorable." Adorable? Gabe eyed the beast. The animal stood as tall as Gabe's shoulder, and it smelled... the way cattle smell. Shaggy red fur covered its eyes like a blindfold, and its black, spongy nose glistened.”

CattlePenelope CampionSteerAngusAnimal Adoption
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“Gabriel nudged her with his shoulder. "Look." The newborn goat was standing on his own wobbly legs, taking drunken steps. When he toppled sideways, he bleated indignantly. Gabriel started to reach for him, but Penny held him back. "Wait." Marigold roused herself and ambled over to her kid, licking him about the head until George lurched and swayed himself to his hooves, and when he nosed at her swollen underside, she allowed him to nurse. "Oh. That's lovely." Penny snuggled under Gabriel's arm. "Thank God she finally took to him," he said. "How could she not? Look how adorable he is. Best little goat in the world.”

AcceptanceBabyGoatsMother And SonKidPenelope And Gabriel
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“You saw him as disapproving of you. I thought him disapproving of me. Funny, isn't it?" Not only funny, but a strange relief. Why hadn't she seen it? Rhys felt like an impostor here, too. [...] Tilting her head to the twilight sky, she mused, "Do you know what I think? I have a feeling that dour look on Lord Corning's face had nothing to do with either of us. Perhaps he'd just tasted something unpleasant.”

SocialAwkwardAwkwardnessDisapprovingImpostor
Book:Twice Tempted by a Rogue
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“Dear Mr. Duke, As requested, here is an inventory of the animals in my care: *Bixby, a two-legged terrier. *Marigold, a nanny goat of unimpeachable character, who is definitely not breeding. *Angus, a three-year-old Highland steer. *Regan, Goneril, and Cordelia- laying hens. *Delilah, a parrot. *Hubert, an otter. *Freya, a hedgehog. *Thirteen kittens of varying colors and dispositions. Gabe leafed through the report in disbelief. It went on for pages. She'd given not only the names, breeds, and ages of every misbegotten creature, but she'd appended a chart of temperaments, sleeping schedules, preferred bedding, and a list of dietary requirements that would beggar a moderately successful tradesman. Along with the expected hay, alfalfa, corn, and seed, the animals required several pounds of mince weekly, daily pints of fresh cream, and an ungodly number of sardines. The steer and thee goat, she insisted, must go to the same loving home. Apparently they were tightly bonded, whatever that meant, and refused to eat of parted. The laying hens did not actually lay with any regularity. Their previous owners had grown frustrated with this paltry production, and thus they had come into Her Ladyship's care. And the lucky bastard who accepted a ten-year-old hedgehog? Well, he must not only provide a steady supply of mealworms, but remain ever mindful of certain "traumatic experiences in her youth.”

AnimalsInventoryListPenelope CampionAnimal Care
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“A lady must attend her own engagement ball." Penny sat up straight. "Gabriel Duke. I know you did not just propose to me in the mews, without so much as going down on one knee, while my hair is a bird's nest and we both smell like goat." "I didn't propose to you." He swung his arms into his coat. Before disappearing, he gave her a slight, mischievous grin and a single syllable that had her heart cartwheeling in her chest. "Yet.”

Penelope And GabrielGabriel DukeProposal Goals
Book:The Wallflower Wager
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“Maddie squirmed out from under him. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I know this is supposed to be physical. Impersonal. It’s only that I keep thinking of lobsters.” He flipped onto his back and lay there, blinking up at the ceiling. “Until just now, I would have said there was nothing remaining that could surprise me in bed. I was wrong.” She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. “I am the girl who made up a Scottish lover, wrote him scores of letters, and kept up an elaborate ruse for years. Does it really surprise you that I’m odd?” “Maybe not.” “Lobsters court for months before mating. Before the male can mate with her, the female has to feel secure enough to molt out of her shell. If a spiny sea creature is worth months of effort, can’t I have just a bit more time? I don’t understand the urgency.”

HumorFunnyScottish RomanceLobsterRegencyRegency Historical Romance
Author:Tessa Dare
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