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Quote by Carrie Ann Ryan

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Prowled Darkness

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Carrie Ann Ryan

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“She'd been the one to push him away this time, yet it hurt just as much as it had before. The door clicked closed behind him, and she gasped out a sob, her body shaking. Why had she said what she'd said? Why had she pushed him away like that? It made no sense. The only thing she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and never let him go. And that was why she didn't do it. Because once she did, she'd never let go. And she wasn't sure she'd survive if she had to watch him leave her again.”

ConclusionParanormal RomancePhoenixUrban Fantasy RomanceFinaleLion Shifter
Book:Prowled Darkness
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“Like something straight out of a B-grade horror film, a single arm shot up from the dirt, reaching and grabbing as it clawed its way forth from its earthen prison. Ash and Trent watched the monster struggle in silence for at least ten minutes, occasionally exchanging glances. Finally, after all the writhing, the zombie emerged. It stumbled out of its grave covered in dirt and gave an annoyed-sounding groan.”

WitchesSupernaturalUrban Fantasy RomanceWarlocksNecromancy
Book:Midnight Hunter
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“She waited for him to go on, but he simply gaped at her, lost for words. "Doc Grey, do you want me?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Vera, I..." He stopped abruptly. "I..."... "I asked you a question." The words came out breathier than she'd intended. She stepped closer, until their bodies were less than an inch apart, and stared up into his gorgeous, honey-brown eyes. He met her gaze, and she saw a spark behind his irises that could only be described with one word: desire.”

WitchesSupernaturalUrban Fantasy RomanceWarlocks Necromancy
Book:Midnight Hunter
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“Georgia gulped as the entire doorway suddenly filled with a man she didn't recognize. She'd been expecting Jesper MacMillian. This was definitely not Jesper MacMillian. This man had a rich black complexion. His head was bald- whether by nature or design, she couldn't be sure. Tiny studs flashed in his ears. He wore a beautiful black suit, painstakingly tailored to fit his massive shoulders. Dark tattoos curled just above his pressed white collar, and down below the edges of his cuffs. His face was neither kind nor unkind. He studied her with vague disinterest, his eyes quiet and guarded beneath solid brows.”

Urban Fantasy RomancePsychic MediumPrivate Detective
Book:Season Of The Witch
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“It wasn't every day a witch came to see him. Darius deCompostela gave up on the paperwork he'd been trying to fill out and leaned back in his chair. Semantics. Technically, Georgia Clare hadn't come to see him. She'd come to see MacMillian. Most people did, often with barely a sideways glance in his direction. Usually, that chafed. Not this time. For one thing, her reluctance to speak with him didn't seem to have anything to do with, well, him. For another thing, he didn't do witches.”

WitchUrban Fantasy RomancePrivate Detective
Book:Season Of The Witch
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