Witches Quotes - Page 7

Damn, I would give anything to see that man naked," Charlotte whispered. "How could you only say he was 'all right'?

Michelle M. Pillow

Her eyes widened, convinced by the size of it that his shaft was fully erect. She blinked several times. No, she was wrong. The bulge moved, growing as she watched it."Not that I mind ya staring, love, but I've got an appointment I must keep.

Michelle M. Pillow

If Scotsmen don't wear anything under their kilts and they ride a horse, do you think they chafe their manbits?

Michelle M. Pillow

Within the magical community, most brides are virgins. Do you have any idea how many curses and other horrible things are associated with virginity and virgin bloodshed? For witches, having sex before marriage invites all sorts of evil magic in.

Elizabeth A. Reeves

My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn’t let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire.

He kissed me tenderly as my heart thumped out of control. My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn’t let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire.

This time, I invited it in. I felt the darkness tame my impetuous nature, allowing me to feed slowly on the hatred and control it. The coldness flowed through my veins and to the lengths of each limb. The icy darkness pooled in my chest and chilled my heart.

The Earth created magic to protect the magic that is the Earth.

I thought that you would be frozen in awe when you found the sequence, when you heard a bird's song repeating my Morse code, my cry for help, my S.O.S, when you saw the same numbers in the petals of a flower and the structure of a pine cone, when you saw with your own eyes the interconnectedness of all things.But I was wrong.You searched for a male god, a creator, an intelligent designer, or you banished the beauty and mystery of the world beneath the cold concrete grave of closed-eye skepticism. The few of you who could still hear my music felt tortured and misunderstood; you reached out for any conspiracy theory large enough to explain your alienated despair, your sense that the Earth was dying and no one cared.But listen to me -- you are not alone. Run your fingers through the grass and grab it in your fists, feel my pulse echoing through your blood. You. Are. Not. Alone. And I -- I am not dead yet.

I was not being mean. Mean was her mother giving her the name Bernice Woodward.Ryals, R.K.. Cursed (The Thorne Trilogy Book 1) (Kindle Locations 66-67). . Kindle Edition.

Sheer male interest filled his gaze which was entirely focused on her. She'd never before felt so female, so utterly desirable, so wanton.

Such is my curse, Branwyn O'Tyre. Every woman I touch is forced to lavish her affections upon me.

Lord help her, but she was instantly drawn to his scent - a mixture of smoke and salt and mystery - as well as his strength. The pulse of his heart, the hum of blood through his veins, the aura of power and danger surrounding him.

My heart might very well beat itself from my chest," she whispered, "and 'tis difficult to breathe.""How odd." Passion thickened his voice. "I seem to be suffering the same symptoms. Does anything else plague you?""A terrible weakness," she whispered shakily. "If you let me go, I am not entirely certain I shall be able to stand."He buried his face in her neck. "Then I shall never let you go.

I don't want to move out of bed."t"I don't want to move out of bed either. Let's live here.

Michelle M. Pillow

For ya, love, I will be anything ya want... even a potato.

Michelle M. Pillow

Would it make you feel better if I had a panic attack?" Jane sat on the couch and suppressed a small yawn. "I mean, it's almost four in the morning and a little early for a panic attack, but I can try to muster up the energy to fake one.

Michelle M. Pillow

He took her hand from her head and held it in his. "Your beauty could make a rose blush."t"Are you... drunk?

Michelle M. Pillow

It was Jaenelle's voice, but...She was medium height, slender, and fair-skinned. Her gold mane--not quite hair and not quite fur--was brushed up and back from her exotic face and didn't hide the delicately pointed ears. In the center of her forehead was a tiny, spiral horn. A narrow strip of gold fur traced her spine, ending in a small gold and white fawn tail that flicked over her bare buttocks. The legs were human and shapely, but changed below the calf. Instead of feet, she had dainty horse's hooves. Her human hands had sheathed claws like a cat's. As she shifted position to slip another shard into place, he saw the small, round breasts, the feminine curve of waist and hips, the dark-gold triangle of hair between her legs.Who...?But he knew. Even before she walked over and looked at him, even before he saw the feral intelligence in those ancient, haunted sapphire eyes, he knew. Terrifying and beautiful. Human and Other. Gentle and violent. Innocent and wise.*I am Witch,* she said, a small, defiant quiver in her voice.*I know.* His voice had a seductive throb in it, a hunger he couldn't control or mask.

He kept glancing at my hair, and that meant one of three things; he was trying to figure out if I dye, he had never seen a ginger before in his life, or he was wondering whether the carpet matched the drapes.Martinez, Katerina (2014-09-25). Midnight Magick: A Romantic Witch Suspense (Amber Lee Mysteries Book 1) (Kindle Locations 202-203). Katerina Martinez. Kindle Edition.

Katerina Martinez

Her long beautiful red hair wasn’t what got me to stare. It was her beautiful heart that I heard beating when I thought no one was there. Her hugs wasn’t what got me to stay, it was the thought of me being alone again and I was afraid. She completes me more than she knows. I admire her more than I show, they say true love is hard to find but, I don’t believe that because once I saw her in my dreams, I knew she was mines. I’ve waited for this day for so long and she never knew it, I plan to give her the world. Lord please don’t let me blow it.

N.I.

He strolled over to the refrigerator, opened the door with one paw, and delicately picked up a beer between his teeth. He waited until clothes had stopped arcing through the air and hand it to Barbara.

Hmm," she said. "'Curiouser and curiouser,' to quote Alice.

He spoke!" Ivan said, eyes wide. "The dog talked! Oh my god."t"An ancient witch you can believe in, but not a talking dragon that looks like a dog?" Chudo-Yudo said, sounding slightly piqued. "Hmph. Young people today have such limited imaginations.

You're the Baba Yaga?" He gazed at her in disbelief. "But the Baba Yaga is an ugly old crone, and you're, you're... not!

Something tells me this isn't going to end well for everyone involved. Someone may get turned into a frog yet." And that was the good news.

he waves settled to soft ripples, and he still hadn’t surfaced. “Isaac?” she swept her arms through the dark water, calling him, but encountered nothing but slimy weeds. Another few seconds and she was in panic mode.She ducked her head beneath the surface and swam down as deep as she could, reaching out in front of her blindly. Suddenly, a strong hand clamped around her ankle. She instinctively kicked and fought her way up for air, gasping as she reached the surface, but he didn’t let go, only shifted his grip to her thighs as he pulled her close and guided her legs around his waist.“That was mean,” she gasped, very aware of every inch of him in physical contact with her.His gaze dipped down to the tops of her breasts showing through the thin fabric of her bra, and his arms tightened around her. “I can’t seem to form thoughts at the moment,” he groaned, pressing a kiss to her mouth before scraping down the side of her neck. “But I’m fairly certain you would take the title for meanness if we were keeping score,” he murmured against her skin.She broke out in goose bumps all the way down to her toes, and it had nothing to do with the chill in the water.

Her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, holding on as if she would never let go. She kissed him back with an ardor that astonished, gratified, and aroused him all at once, and for a moment, he lost himself in the kiss, and in the woman, thinking to himself, now this, this is magic.

And now about the cauldron singLike elves and fairies in a ring,Enchanting all that you put in.

William Shakespeare

Above all remember this: that magic belongs as much to the heart as to the head and everything which is done, should be done from love or joy or righteous anger.

Albert died in an unfortunate accident sometime ago and was raised as a zombie by his amateur necromancer friend, Neil. Bubba was a new friend we had acquired in Vegas when helping him gain back the freedom he had previously gambled away. The fourth member of our group, a government agent and my girlfriend named Krystal, was out of town for work this week, thus I was conducting my first weekly scrabble tournament with just the three of us. Which leaves only me to be accounted for in the explanation. My name. which I hope you know by now. is Frederick Frankford Fletcher and I am a vampire, though still not the type that inspires swooning or terror.

Are you sure about this?" Rowan asked."No," Lily shouted over the whipping wind. Her voice came out choked as it tried to get around her stomach, which was now lodged in her throat. "But it's the only way."Rowan looked over the side, his face serene as he timed it. Lily saw his willstone pulse as every sense in him sharpened, and he pulled her tightly against his body and launched them off the drake's neck into thin air.Lily shrieked uncontrollably, clutching at Rowan desperately as they fell.

Josephine Angelini

Everyone said they were witches. I desperately wanted to believe it.

Laure Eve

Enemy," hiss the bushes all around. The rest of the Pride glided forward, surrounding Lily, Rowan, and Spike.

Josephine Angelini

LILY FELL OUT OF THE SKY.

Josephine Angelini

There had been trials involving water, a time when witches were persecuted, bound, and tossed into the largest nearby body of water to see if they would sink or swim.

Glen Shiel, Socttish Highlands, 1296Strife abounds. King Edward of England has invaded the southern strongholds of Scotland and is pressuring King John of Scotland to abdicate. Several Scottish nobles, called Claimants, vie for his throne. The Cause divides the country, as each clan must choose and support a Claimant. Many contenders seek fortune and power, but a few seek Scotland’s independence. Only by a great force can this be achieved. However, the road to independence is fraught with those that wish to see the Cause crushed, at any cost.

Only one word describes a woman widowed for the second time on her wedding night – cursed.

She clambered to the shoreline. Numb and shaken, she began to dress. It wasn’t easy as she fumbled with slick fingers to put dry clothes over wet skin. She instantly regretted her naked swim. She pulled on her long-sleeved white chemise first.tShe faced the forest, away from her rescuer. He quietly splashed to shore. His lifeblood burned into her back. He wasn’t far behind, but he stopped. She refused to look at him until she was fully clothed, not out of embarrassment of her nudity, but for what had just happened. He released a groan and mumbled under his breath about wet boots. His voice was not one of her father’s soldiers.tWhen she put the last garment on, her brown wool work kirtle, she squeezed out her sopping hair and swept her hands through the knotty mess. She fastened her belt and tied the lacings up the front of the kirtle. Blood returned to her fingertips, and she regained her composure. Belated awareness struck her, and she leaned down and searched through her bag for her dagger. She spun around.tShe gasped as she saw the man sitting on the stone-covered shoreline, his wet boots off. Confusion and the hint of a scowl filled his strong-featured face. She staggered back, caught her heel on a stone, and fell, dropping the dagger. Dirt and pebbles stuck to her wet hands and feet, and she instinctively scrambled away from him.tHis glower, iridescent dark blue eyes, and disheveled black hair were not unfamiliar. Staring at her was the man she had seen in her dream – it was the man from the wood.

There is an odd quirk in the human mind that makes a fearful man prefer to go quietly to a wicked-looking, gnarled "witch" for a countercharm than to a respectable licensed sorcerer or an accredited priest of the Church.

Randall Garrett

But witchy magic doesn’t listen to please and pretty please, and anyway, I didn’t really care. I only pretended to care because not caring makes me a monster.

Franny Billingsley

Hubert's wife, Mindy, was a tiny powerhouse of a woman with a halo of wild blond hair and eye makeup so complex it took me a while to locate her pupils. She was clearly the brains of the operation, such as she was.

Without asking, he moved behind her and brushed her hair over her shoulder. Drawing the necklace around her neck, he fastened the clasp. The amber felt cool against her sweltering skin. Lifting it, she rotated the pendant, watching as it caught the light. "It's lovely." Before she could change her mind, she dug into her pocket and shoved the rest of the coins into his hand.

Wait until you meet my family. At Thanksgiving, we kill everything we can find, put it into a pot, and call it 'holiday gumbo'.

But then, not long after, in another article, Loftus writes, "We live in a strange and precarious time that resembles at its heart the hysteria and superstitious fervor of the witch trials." She took rifle lessons and to this day keeps the firing instruction sheets and targets posted above her desk. In 1996, when Psychology Today interviewed her, she burst into tears twice within the first twenty minutes, labile, lubricated, theatrical, still whip smart, talking about the blurry boundaries between fact and fiction while she herself lived in another blurry boundary, between conviction and compulsion, passion and hyperbole. "The witch hunts," she said, but the analogy is wrong, and provides us with perhaps a more accurate window into Loftus's stretched psyche than into our own times, for the witch hunts were predicated on utter nonsense, and the abuse scandals were predicated on something all too real, which Loftus seemed to forget: Women are abused. Memories do matter. Talking to her, feeling her high-flying energy the zeal that burns up the center of her life, you have to wonder, why. You are forced to ask the very kind of question Loftus most abhors: did something bad happen to her? For she herself seems driven by dissociated demons, and so I ask. What happened to you? Turns out, a lot. (refers to Dr. Elizabeth F. Loftus)

She was the one person he’d hoped to avoid as much as possible when he’d taken his place as Sheriff of Maxville. It wasn’t that he disliked her, that was the problem. Despite his better judgment and a glutton for punishment, he still cared too damn much for the woman.

Lia Davis

He had golden-brown hair, the most vivid baby-blue eyes, and a body that belonged on the cover of Men’s Health magazine. Her gaze roamed over his broad shoulders and down his chest.

Lia Davis

The slam of a car door drew her attention to a new arrival. Maxville Deputy Sheriff Zach Manus emerged from his unmarked 2011 Camaro and stalked toward them. Deep sorrow and anger laced across his handsome features. His light-brown hair stood a little more on end than normal. He stopped in front of them, his frown deepening and his golden-brown eyes darkening.

Lia Davis

His hand cupped her cheek as he lowered his head to hers. Just before their lips touched, a light knock sounded on the door.

Lia Davis

When the power falls on me, it buzzes in the warm, dark spaces of my skull. It stings like nettles at the tips of my fingers. The power is a fever I have felt since early childhood, a heat in the blood that leaves me flushed and unsteady, dreaming in daylight.

I'm looking forward to the noose. Nothing better than a good hanging.

His hand came out and captured her by the chin. She froze, finding it hard to breathe as he gently raised her face to meet his gaze.

Lia Davis

Her blond hair hung loose, cascading around her shoulders, and stopping over her breasts. She turned toward him, violet eyes meeting his gaze. For a moment, he lost all coherent thought.

Lia Davis

A sudden intake of breath escaped her as soon as his lips touched the backs of her fingers. His rose birthmark tingled as if awakened.

Lia Davis

You like playing with fire?”“Yes. It is my favorite element.” She extracted her arm from his grip and stepped inside the elevator

Lia Davis

But in that moment, I didn’t want to be trusted. I wanted something far more primal. I stretched up on my tiptoes and leaned in. I closed my eyes as his scent overcame me. When his lips touched mine it felt as if he’d caressed them with a feather. It was all I could do not to wrap myself around him and do things I’d never really thought about doing before.

I wanted to hear him disappoint me in that sexy domineering way he always did.

A pact must be kept and a secret must never be revealed ...”Pact of witches

I'm still looking for books about them, as well as I am used to feed food every day.

I’ll never turn her away, Clyde. She’s my mate. I’ll protect her till my dying breath. I’ll even swallow my pride and ask a favor as momentous as the one I just asked of a man who has done nothing but try to drive a wedge between her and myself.

Previous 1 … 5 6 7 8 9 … 11 Next