Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Lisa Daily

Quote by Lisa Daily

Work

Single-Minded

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Lisa Daily

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Lisa Daily. more

You May Also Like

“…Jake caught the briefest glimpse of a demure set of pale pink lingerie, and then Molly was airborne—jumping feet-first into the deep end. She swam underwater like a mermaid, finally coming up for air near the center of the pool. Her hair was slicked back on her skull, shining and as dark as melted chocolate and Jake was frozen to the spot by So. Much. Molly. All on display for him. God—she was really, really wet. ~"Finding a Husband" by Kristen Casey”

“Packing some heat there, aren’t you Officer?” Jake looked down and yanked on the hem of his blazer. “Don’t you worry about that, miss,” he chuckled. “That’s for later.” He pecked her on the cheek and steered her toward the door. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” Molly grumbled, irritated by his nonchalance. Her legs felt like jelly and she tottered on her heels, making her even more annoyed. Jake steadied her—of course he did. “Really?” he asked, the soul of civility. “I disagree.””

“Jessica also supplied chopped fruits and vegetables to the lounge of lizards in the garden. She’d read that amusing expression on YucatanLiving.com. A group of lizards was called a lounge. So, she supposed, a group of lizards hanging around could be thought of as a lounge of lizards lounging in a lizard lounge. Oh-kay then, she really was spending way too much time by herself. Tormenta Isla Book #3 of Isla Mujeres Mystery series.”

“Parrott, hate to disturb you on your day off. Need you to check out a death at the Campbell farm. Lots of important people at a weekend party. Looks like natural causes, but--" “Okay, Chief. I’m on it.” Parrott shut down his computer and put on his heavy coat. He glanced back at Tonya’s picture before he stepped out and closed the door.”

“The Chattering Season by Stewart Stafford Hear a fearsome banshee's wail, From a dank bog or Celtic dale, Like the pulling of the rat's tail, In the whistle of a thrashing gale. In this skittish son of Mc's room, A death knell tolls out his doom, A cursed shadow now does loom, Her spirit bride's unwilling groom. The stark evening's grim messenger, She's a maelstrom's fatal passenger, Howls from last breath's harbinger, No dowry for this eternal dowager. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”