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Quote by Erica Ridley

“That’s not a catalog!” Amelia's brother set aside his empty glass and plate to peer across the maplewood table. “Why the devil are you reading Debrett’s Peerage?” “It most certainly is a catalog," she replied, "and the most expedient one at my disposal. I’ve decided to take a husband. His name must be within these pages.”

Quote by Erica Ridley

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The Viscount's Christmas Temptation

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Erica Ridley

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“We should go,” he said gruffly, his face inscrutable. “Why?” Her heartbeat thundered. She gripped his arms tight to keep herself from twining her own about his neck. He lowered his mouth to her ear, brushing it with a feather-soft kiss. “It isn’t safe.” Her answering shiver had nothing to do with the cold. She had never stood so close to any man, had never fought the urge to press herself even closer. “What could happen?” she whispered. He cupped her face in his hands. “Anything.”

“What shall we say when people ask us how we met?” The corners of her mouth twitched. “We’ll say I was in my nightrail, brushing my hair in peaceful solitude, when you climbed up to my balcony and—” “Do you even have a balcony?” She pursed her lips. “You’re not invited upon it, regardless.” He gave her a slow, naughty smile. “No one’s ever *invited* to scale a balcony.”

“We, men, who work hard to get somewhere in life, to make something of ourselves in life, to mean something to someone, to have what our ancestors never had.....We, men, who toil for a name, respect, livelihood, who are pitied, mocked all for the love of a woman.....We men who need to have a coherent existence, and oneness of spirit with a single soul; We, sir, do not deserve such an audience as Ms. Adams." - Pritchard's letter”

“The only thing he was sorry for was slamming the door and perhaps raising his voice to the woman who'd been like a mother to him since the passing of his parents. Perhaps she hadn't really deserved his reaction, but he was, justifiably, weary of their meddling and hearing about his father's will. Apparently no suitable maiden was going to appear on his doorstep. He seemed to be looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“The years passed. Untouched by age, he lived and did as his creator had suggested. Victim after victim, drink after drink, he tried to stop his hunger; however, it did not last for long. The tingling ache of emptiness crawled up from his gut until he could no longer stand it, and soon he would be out on the hunt all over again. He had never felt guilt for his murders. The power inside him reassured that he was above such emotions. Besides, he was the gate that opened their soul to his creator. He fed not only himself, but it.”