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Paranormal Romance Quotes

Browse 1335 quotes about Paranormal Romance.

Paranormal Romance Quotes

“Did you… need something?” he asked in a tight voice. I swallowed hard, my mind racing with a million things to say. The fear pricking at me, telling me I had one last chance to wimp out. To walk away. But I shook my head. No. Not this time. “Yes,” I said simply. “I need something.” “And what, may I ask, do you need?” I met his eyes. “You.”

“Five years that she had been taking care of her sisters and the land. Five years where she’d dedicated everything to training for a supposed event that might or might not occur. How many of her ancestors had done the same thing? How many others had watched the years pass them by as they held to their believes with such certainty that they died for it? More importantly, did she want to be a casualty to this... whatever it was? “What do I do?” she asked the air. She threw out her arms and lifted her face to the sky. “What do I do?!” Her arms fell to her sides as she lowered her head. How could she have been so certain of things for so long, and now doubt everything? “What do you do about what?” The sound of the male voice startled her, causing her jerk around. She found him with one leg braced on the summit as he paused on the trail, a black brow quirked. Ettie opened her mouth, but there were no words as she took in the sight of him. He was...beautiful in a rugged, untamed way that made her heart race and her stomach quiver. It became impossible to breathe as she drank in the cut of his jaw and square chin. She tried not to stare at his mouth and thick bottom lip, but all she could think about was what it would be like to kiss him. Then she looked into his eyes. They were molten silver, dark and enigmatic like mercury. Those gorgeous eyes framed with long, black lashes watched her with the concentration of a hawk. Layers of thick ebony hair fell nearly to his shoulders with the top half of it pulled away from his face. He wore only a denim shirt and a cream tee beneath it along with faded jeans and black boots. She didn’t know how he was up there without a coat. His lips slowly pulled into a smile, and she realized she’d been ogling him. Ettie glanced away, but her gaze returned immediately. She laughed nervously, still unable to find words. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said as he took the last step to the top. “I assumed since you shouted your question you might want an answer.” His Irish brogue was deep, throaty, and absolutely sexy. It was slightly different than anything she’d heard before, and she wanted more.”

“I like solitude.” “Doesn’t seem to fit with the personality of a rock guitarist.” “Let me tell you a secret.” He leaned forward. “My stage persona is not who I am at all.” Gina realized she had completely stopped painting while listening, enraptured with what he had to say. “What are you then?” He gave her a mischievous grin that reached his eyes. “Right now, I’m just a guy standing in front of a pretty girl who makes his pulse race.”

“I don’t know,” she lied. “I need a few days to think it over.” Even as she said it, she knew she was going to take the offer. Hell, she might even escape from whatever dark menace haunted her rune readings lately, along with the owner of that predatory, handsome face. Or if she went, she could be running right toward it. Toward him. Ah, well. You’ can’t fix stupid. And you can’t heal crazy.”

“A rising tide of desire threatened to swamp her like a tidal wave, washing away fear and doubt and leaving behind it the knowledge that in her topsy turvy life, she was certain of only one thing: she wanted this man, right now, and she'd deal with the consequences later.... "I want to make love to you," he said, his voice low and thrumming through her veins as if it were a music only she could hear.”

“Chewie gave a bone-scented sigh and rubbed his jowl affectionately against her leg. "I can't tell you what to do, Beka. I can just tell you that I would be very sorry if you weren't my Baba. I've kind of gotten used to having you around." Beka blinked back unexpected emotion. "Thanks, Chewie. That's really sweet." He was quiet for a moment, and then said. "You know what's really sweet? S'mores, that's what." He gazed up at her with an innocent expression. "Just sayin'.”

“Sam could feel his jaw drop open, but it took him a moment to gather himself together enough to shut it. He blinked at Jazz. "Did that cat just talk, or am I losing my mind?" Koshka laughed, a bizarre sound coming from something with whiskers and ear tufts. "So you believe in witches but not to talking cats? You have a very limited worldview, Human. You might want to work on that.”

“Er, hello, Chewie," he said politely. "Woof," the dog said back. "Chewie is a Newfoundland," Beka explained. "They're great water dogs. They swim better than we do, and even have webbed feet. They're often used for water rescue, and the breed started out as working dogs for fishermen." "Uh-huh... Chewie - I guess you named him for Chewbacca in Star Wars. I can see why; they're both gigantic and furry." Beka giggled. "I never thought of that. Actually, Chewie is short for Chudo-Yudo. Also, he chews on stuff a lot, so it seemed fitting." "Chudo what?" Marcus said. The dog made a snuffling sound that might have been canine laughter. "Chudo-Yudo," Beka repeated. "He's a character out of Russian fairy tales, the dragon that guards the Water of Life and Death. You never heard of him?" Marcus shook his head. "My father used to tell the occasional Irish folk tale when I was a kid, but I'm not familiar with Russian ones at all. Sorry." "Oh, don't be," she said cheerfully. "Most of them were pretty gory, and they hardly ever had happy endings." "Right." Marcus looked at the dog, who gazed alertly back with big brown eyes, as if trying to figure out if the former Marine was edible or not. "So, you named him after a mythical dragon from a depressing Russian story. Does anyone get eaten in that story, just out of curiosity?" Chewie sank down onto the floor with a put-upon sigh, and Beka shook her head at Marcus. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course people got eaten. But don't worry. Chewie hasn't taken a bite out of anyone in years. He's very mellow for a dragon.”

“The boy stuck his hand out politely and shook hers, then extended it to Fergus, his eyes bright as stars in the night sky. "That's cool," he said, looking down at Fergus's hand and turning it sideways so he could get a better look. "You have little webs between your fingers. Does that hep you swim?" Marcus cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "Tito, dude, it's not polite to comment on people's, um, oddities." He shrugged an apology at Fergus, who just laughed. "I do not mind," Fergus said, grinning at the dark-skinned boy. He leaned down and whispered. "Can you keep a secret? I am actually a Merman from an undersea kingdom; that is why I have webs between my fingers." He held up one bare foot and said in a more normal tone, "Toes, too, see?" Tito's face was a study in conflicting awe and disbelief. "I never heard of a Merman," he said, dubiously. "I thought there were only Mermaids. And they're made up." Fergus snorted. "If you do not have any Mermen, how would get more Mermaids, eh?”

“Marcus gave her a slow, wicked smile, feeling the smoldering heat rise to the surface like molten lava, irresistible as a force of nature. "If you insist," he whispered, and bent his head to capture her lips with his own. He put all his yearning, all his gratitude for the gifts she'd given him, all that heat bubbling up within him into the kiss, feeling her lips yield beneath his. She returned his fire with fire, kissing him back with a wild abandon that left them both trembling and enraptured, wrapped around each other in the midst of a crowd, focused only on each other. Overhead, fireworks lit the sky, but neither of them noticed.”

“Fen looked mildly amused by my antics. In fact, he was just short of full-on laughing. "Don't snicker at me, wolf. Being naked in your arms..." As I said those words out loud, a kernel of heat seared through me, heat that had nothing at all to do with the scalding temperature of the water. "Well... let's just say it surprised me, okay? I wasn't expecting to be ... unclothed or ... alive, for that matter." "Valkyrie, your nakedness does not bother me in the least." Did his eyes just flare a teensy bit? "It would've been counterproductive to heal you with your clothes on. What was left of them, anyway. I figured your life was worth more than your modesty." His lips went up in a cocky grin. "Plus, it kept me quite... focused on my task.”

“You should stay," he repeated. "The worst of the storm may be over, but it is still raining. It's pitch-black out there, and you're already tired and soaked to the bone. "Not exactly great conditions for riding a dirt bike. I wouldn't want you to get hurt." Bella took another small step toward him, tilting her head up so she could look into his eyes. "And that's the only reason you want me to stay?" To keep me safe?" Sam shook his head. "No. Not the only reason." And he leaned down to kiss her, suddenly realizing he'd been wanting to do it since the day he met her.”

“Sam started to move away, and she pulled him closer. "Where are you going?" she asked. "Shhh," he said. "I'm just going to grab the blanket and turn out the light. I'll be right back." Bella chuckled sleepily and waved her right hand. The blanket lifted off the back of the chair where she'd left it and came slowly sailing across the room to drape itself over their entwined bodies. A snap of her fingers and the single lamp in the kitchen went out. Sam blinked in the sudden darkness. "You're a very handy woman to have around," he said. "You have no idea," she replied, and proceeded to demonstrate that she wasn't quite as tired as he'd thought.”