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Quote by Sylvain Reynard

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Sylvain Reynard
Sylvain Reynard

Sylvain Reynard is a French author known for his romantic novels, characterized by complex emotional entanglements and profound character development. more

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“At first he didn’t recognize her. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her movements sure and graceful. Yet there was something about her face and figure that reminded him of the girl he’d fallen in love with long ago. They’d gone their separate ways, and he had always mourned her, his angel, his muse, his beloved Beatrice. Without her, his life had been lonely and small. Now his blessedness appeared.”

Sylvain ReynardGabriel S Inferno
Book:Gabriel's Inferno
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“I like your…outfit.” His eyes took in the naked flesh that was visible below the edge of the shirttail. “I like your outfit too. You’re looking awfully casual this morning, Professor.” He leaned forward and gave her a heated look. “Miss Mitchell, you’re lucky I decided to put on any clothes at all.” He chuckled at her fierce blush and disappeared into the kitchen. Oh, gods of all virgins who are planning to have sex with their sex-god (no blasphemy intended) boyfriends, please don’t let me spontaneously combust when he finally takes me to bed. I really need a Gabriel-induced orgasm, especially after last night. Please. Please. Pretty please…”

Sylvain ReynardGabriel S Inferno
Book:Gabriel's Inferno
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“Love hath so long possess'd me for his own And made his lordship so familiar That he, who at first irk'd me, is now grown Unto my heart as its best secrets are. And thus, when he in such sore wise doth mar My life that all its strength seems gone from it. Mine inmost being then feels thoroughly quit Of anguish, and all evil keeps afar. Love also gathers to such power in me That my sighs speak, each one a grievous thing. Always soliciting My Gabriel's salutation piteously. Whenever he beholds me, it is so, Who is more sweet than any words can show.”

Sylvain ReynardGabriel S Inferno
Book:Gabriel's Inferno
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“As soon as the words presented themselves, Gabriel knew that they were perfect for him. Perfect for what he was contemplating doing to her. Perfect for his own self-justification. Tasting. Taking. Sucking. Sinning. Draining. Abandoning. She was pure. She was innocent. He wanted her. Facilis descensus Averni. But he would not be the one to make her bleed. He could not, would not, make another girl bleed for the rest of his life. All thoughts of seduction and mad, passionate f*cking on desks and chairs, against walls and bookshelves and windows, immediately gave way. He would not take her. He would not mark her and claim what he had no right to claim.”

Sylvain ReynardGabriel S Inferno
Book:Gabriel's Inferno
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