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Quote by Georgina Viorica Rogoz

“...îşi aminteşte că logofătul Filon, sfetnicul şi prietenul tatălui său Mircea, numise cândva vremea sau poate viaţa, un lanţ ... Un lanţ de încercări, ispite şi frământări, bune şi rele, ce leagă naşterea de moarte. Crugul existenţei omului... lanţ pe care-l porţi neştiutor până-ţi sună ceasul cel din urmă...”

Quote by Georgina Viorica Rogoz

Book:Drăculeștii
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Drăculeștii

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Georgina Viorica Rogoz

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“Harper walked over to her reception desk. “What’s with the Tyson look-alikes out there? I almost couldn’t get in here.” Pixie frowned. “Better go ask your boy-o. Famous rock star in the house.” Pixie accentuated her comment with the poke of her pen. Jeez, he was huge. And built. And shirtless. Okay, enough staring. Well, maybe just for another second. Trent was leaning over the guy, and she could tell from the wide-reaching spread of purple transfer lines that he was just beginning a sleeve on the other man’s lower arm. The guy in the chair might well be a rock star— although Harper would never admit she had no clue who he was— but he was wincing. Harper could totally feel for him. Trent was in his usual position— hat on backward, gloves on, and perched on a stool. Harper approached them nervously. The big guy’s size and presence were a little intimidating. “I don’t bite.” Oh God. He was talking to her. “Excuse me?” He sucked air in between clenched teeth. “I said I don’t bite. You can come closer.” His blue eyes were sparkling as he studied her closely. Trent looked up. “Hey, darlin’,” he said, putting the tattoo machine down and reaching for her hand. “Dred, this is my girl, Harper. Harper, this is Dred Zander from the band Preload. He’s one of the other judges I told you about.” Wow. Not that she knew much about the kind of music that Trent listened to, but even she had heard of Preload. That certainly explained the security outside. Dred reached out his hand and shook hers. “Nice to meet you, Harper. And a pity. For a minute, I thought you were coming over to see me.” “No,” Harper exclaimed quickly, looking over at Trent, who was grinning at her. “I mean, no, I was just bringing Trent some cookies.” Holy shit. Was she really that lame? It was like that moment in Dirty Dancing when Baby told Johnny she carried a watermelon. Dred turned and smiled enigmatically at Trent. “I see what you mean, man.” “Give.” Smiling, Trent held out his hand. Reaching inside her bag, she pulled out the cookies and handed the container to him. “Seriously, dude, she’s the best fucking cook on the planet.” Trent paused to take a giant bite. “You got to try one,” he mumbled, offering the container over. Harper watched, mortified, as a modern-day rock legend bit into one of her cookies. Dred chewed and groaned. “These are almost as good as sex.” Harper laughed. “Not quite,” Trent responded, giving her a look that made her burn. “You should try her pot roast. Could bring a grown man to his knees.”

CookiesHarper And TrentDredPot Roast
Book:The Strongest Steel
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“She looked at the strong hand holding hers. “Oh my goodness, what did you do?” Harper asked, eyebrows raised and mouth open as she studied the cuts and bruises. “Had a conversation with a streetlight once you got into the cab,” he said, pulling her closer to him. “I’m sorry, Trent. I really am. If I blew you and me because of all this, I get it and I don’t blame you. I’m done running. I’m done being scared. I’m done doubting whether you and your friends will help me if I need it. I am done with everything except being in love with you. I—” Harper was flipped onto her back and underneath Trent in the blink of an eye. “Say it again.” His dark eyes were fierce as he held each side of her face in his big, safe hands. “I’m sorry, I—” “No.” He cut her off. “Not that part. The ‘I love you’ part.” “I love you.” Harper had barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Trent’s lips descended on hers. Their mouths clashed together, banging teeth before soothing bitten lips with soft tongues. Trent pulled away, taking a deep breath before staring deep into her eyes. Harper could feel his very soul merging with hers. “I love you, Harper. Everything else is details. A lot of fucking details, granted, but just details.”

LoveDetailsHarper And Trent
Book:The Strongest Steel
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“Pulling back, he gave her a little space and grinned as she found her balance again. “Do you think that will ever get old?” Harper asked with an embarrassed blush. “Christ, I hope not. Just remember how you feel right now because you might be really mad at me in about one minute.” “Uh-oh. I don’t think I like the sound of that.” Harper raised an eyebrow at him. He took her hand and led her toward the studio before pulling her in front of him, her back to his chest. It was the safest position to avoid a kick in the nuts and the best position to block a fast escape. He felt Harper’s quick intake of breath as she turned to face him with a hand over her mouth. “What did you do?” she said through her fingers. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” He pushed her through the door as everyone inside shouted, “Surprise!”

SurpriseKissesHarper And Trent
Book:The Strongest Steel
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“You should go home and get some sleep,” Harper said drowsily, letting the pain medication help take her under. Trent stood up, lowered the head of the gurney, and lifted Harper’s head to fluff the pillow before gently lowering her back down. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Harper said, refusing to acknowledge the fear she suddenly felt at being left alone. The light went off in the room and Harper’s heart started to race. She needed the light on. The mattress sagged as Trent sat down on the side of the bed. She felt him lean forward and heard him kick off his shoes. He pulled his legs up onto the single gurney and lay down on his side, carefully putting his arm around her. The warmth of his breath behind her ear, the sweetness of his lips against her skin eased the pressure she’d felt building inside. “Yeah, you will, darlin’. I’ll be right here.”

Harper And Trent
Book:The Strongest Steel
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“Trent,” Harper choked, “Is … Is Anton okay?” Her voice was hoarse, reminding her of the red marks that the doctor had told her covered the outside of her throat. “He’s fine, Harper. A bit shook up— he’s a hero. Ran straight to Frankie’s. Gave the police all kinds of details.” Trent squeezed her hand hard. “Christ, Harper, when Frankie called and told me Nathan had abducted … abducted…” The word stuck, and Harper’s resolve not to cry wavered as tears filled Trent’s eyes. He dropped his head gently onto Harper’s stomach and wrapped his arms around her, softly, and she was filled with gratitude that she was still here with him. “I’m fine, Trent,” she soothed, running her fingers through his hair. “I was scared shitless, but I had something to live for.” “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner. I love you, sweetheart. More than you can possibly know.” “I know, baby,” she cried, finally letting go in front of him. “I love you, too.” When her tears turned into full-blown sobs, Trent gathered her gently into his arms so they could comfort each other.”

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Book:The Strongest Steel
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“The gardener kept the planting of wintersweet against the southern wall, tucked behind an ell, out of sight of the drive or the front entrance. It caught the sun there, he said, and though it was a dull plant when it wasn't in flower, it was useful for perfuming soap. Morwen loved the yellow, waxy blossoms that bloomed when everything else in the garden had gone dormant for the winter.”

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Book:A Secret History of Witches
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“Miss A-la-na here seems to think that my pork medallion with caramelized-onion pan sauce is a little heavy-handed, that the onions need a lighter touch, a less intense flavor. Do you think the recipe needs altering? Hmmm? In your INFINITE wisdom and experience?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, smug and smooth and utterly contemptuous. And I was not in the mood. "In my HUMBLE opinion," I began, equally quiet and calm, and no less scathing, "the recipe indeed needs some lightening. And since you ostensibly hired me to help make you look good and ensure that the recipes you put out in the world can actually be successfully produced by the general population, you should trust that I am going to take your recipes and make them better, and leave it at that. I do things the way they should be done, and you cook your dishes like a good little boy and STAY OUT OF MY ASS.”

Back TalkAlana And Patrick
Book:Off the Menu
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