Dana Marton Quotes & Sayings

Can I stay?" The question broke Ashley Price's heart as she crouched in her messy foyer with her daughter in her arms. She clutched her five-year-old tighter as skinny little arms wrapped around her neck. "Very soon, okay?" Maddie - pink coat, pink boots, pink hat, pink gloves - pulled back and put on her poor-lost-puppy look. "Mo-om, you always say that. I'll be good. I'll be quiet when you paint. You won't even know I'm here. — Dana Marton

I love you more than piranhas love chicken wings. — Dana Marton

He kissed her dizzy, then lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waisst as he kissed his way down her neck.
"Make love to me," she whispered. "Like I'm a full-grown woman."
He pulled back to look at her. "As opposed to...? — Dana Marton

The Potomac had taken away Linda and the boys.
The Rio Negro had given him Daniela.
One river had swallowed his heart; another river, halfway around the world, had gifted it back. A different heart, beaten up, scarred, but a beating heart at least. — Dana Marton

He tsked. "No tits, no manners." He shook his head. "You should try to have at least one or the other. A pair of great tits covers a multitude of sins. — Dana Marton

He registered the empty room a split second before she dropped on him from the storage shelf above the bathroom door, nearly knocking him off his feet.
"Hey. Stop that." He tried to twist to get hold of her, but his temple caught her sharp elbow and he saw stars. He staggered toward the bed and flipped her down at last, but she managed to hook her leg behind his neck and he ended up on the boom somehow, with her sittinbg on his chest.
Her wild, shoulder-length waves framed cheeks pink from effort, her chest heaving as she leaned forward to pin his hands next to his head on each side. She ended up with her fine breasts inches from his lips.
He could have subdued her in two moves, but he liked her on top of him. — Dana Marton

She had the soft presence of a fish hook in the eye. — Dana Marton

Flash fire."
She turned her head as far as she could, trying to look at him. "I don't know what that means."
He shifted on the branch. "First time I was on a submarine, we had a flash fire. It's a combustion explosion. A flammable mist builds up in the air, then suddenly, bam. Think super high temperatures and a rapidly moving flame front. It kills by asphyxiation. Burns up all the available oxygen. It's devastating. — Dana Marton

She turned on the radio. Christmas music filled the car. She turned it off with a groan.
"It's not going to turn you into an elf if you listen," he promised and liked the smile that played at the corner of her lips, wiggling the small mole that kept drawing his attention.
She glanced at him. "Do you believe in Christmas?"
"I do," he said without hesitation.
"Even after all you've seen and done overseas?"
"Especially because of that... — Dana Marton

When I was young, I wanted to be an astronaut. Someone who flies in a spaceship to the moon," he explained, in case she didn't know the word.
She thought about that for a moment. "But you didn't go."
"Turns out I have dyslexia. It's something in your brain that makes it hard to learn. Mine is not bad, just enough so I couldn't pass the test."
"I'm glad you didn't go to the moon," she said. "I think it's better that you came here. — Dana Marton

What anger wants, it buys at the price of soul. — Dana Marton

For some, their endless potential can be more frightening than their shortcomings, — Dana Marton

A dangerous glint came into his eyes. "Gabi, if I ever show up in your bedroom in the middle of the nigh, believe me, it won't be to give you a morality lesson."
She felt the promise of that through her body down to her toes. But she said, "If anyone showed up in my bedroom in the middle of the night, I'm likely to shoot them."
He laughed as he shook his head at her. "Of course, you would. — Dana Marton

Where did you grow up?"
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Who says I've grown up? — Dana Marton

I learned from a tough Philly cop, Carmen Morales. She taught me the rules."
"What rules?"
"Rule #1: Trust no one. Rule #2: Miss nothing. Rule #3: Reveal nothing. Rule #4: Question everything. Rule #5: Eye on the clock. Rule #6: Get lucky. Rule #7: Trust your instincts.
"Good rules to live by. The army has rules too."
"I bet. — Dana Marton

Murph took his shot and dropped the bastard right out of the tree. then he stood. "I'm an American soldier, you son of a bitch. — Dana Marton

had a smattering of chest hair that looked — Dana Marton

She wasn't entirely sure if she was being rescued or kidnapped. — Dana Marton

Her hand jerked, leaving an angry slash in the middle of the canvas. A headache drummed to life in the back of her skull. It's not going to happen today. She ignored the shiver that skipped down her spine. This is a normal day. I'm painting a normal composition. But it was too late. It was happening already. She squeezed her eyes shut against the images flooding her brain, but no resistance would help now. She couldn't escape. — Dana Marton

His phone rang just as he set his evidence kit on the ground. He glanced at the display and took the call. "Hey, Mom."
"I ran into Cindy Jenners at the store today."
"No."
"She's such a nice young woman."
"Not interested."
"Your sisters abandoned me."
"They didn't abandon you. They got married."
"They moved to other states. I don't have a single grandchild. within driving distance. How can they be so curel?" She gave a guilt-laden pause. "Mrs. Ottmann said she saw you talking to some blonde with Massachusetts license plates by the feed store yesterday."
Chase closed his eyes and brushed his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids. "I was giving her a speeding ticket... — Dana Marton

She could live without her past. She was better off without her past. But Ian couldn't live without his heart. — Dana Marton

He stepped closer with an intense, thoughtful look on his face. "We shouldn't do this."
Her heart gave a hard thud.
"You probably can't kiss." Another step closer. "What does the doctor say?"
"We never kissed," she deadpanned. "Dr. Pratt and I are not interested in each other that way."
The sound of his deep laughter broke the tension between them. He moved a little closer still.
"Dr. Pratt says intimacy is all right, unless the other person is sick." She couldn't believe she just said that. Why not put a neon sign on her forehead? DESPERATE FOR SEX.
"This isn't going to work." He leaned his forehead against hers, the skin-to-skin contact jolting. "This isn't the right time for either of us." His hands slid up her arms. "I shouldn't kiss you," he said.
And then he did.
Holy heaven. — Dana Marton

Of all the shades of red, she hated the wet, sticky brightness of crimson the most. — Dana Marton

It's all messed up," she said.
"What is?" he asked quietly from behind her.
"Us."
"We're doing okay."
"I didn't set out to trap you or anything." Keith had accused her of that a hundred times.
"I don't feel trapped."
"Why?"
"I'm a simple guy. I have a beautiful woman in my arms. What's there to complain about?"
"I'm hardly beautiful. I look like an eggplant."
"Purple is my favorite color."
"There's a really annoying dinosaur you might want to watch with Justin over breakfast." But she smiled into the darkness. — Dana Marton

They faced each other in silence for a long minute, both of them clearly uncomfortable. He hated all the awkwardness between them.
To hell with that. He smiled at her. "So do I get to know what's in that diary?"
She blushed crimson. "That diary got you into this mess. You could have been killed. How can you joke about it?"
"No joke. I'm sincerely interested." An understatement. He would have given his antique baseball bat collection to know what she'd written about him ten years ago.
"I was a foolish teenager."
"And now?" He stepped closer. — Dana Marton

Tomorrow, said the voice of fear in her head. It always said, tomorrow, whether it talked about going to the grocery store or starting a new painting. Tomorrow you'll be brave, fear whispered. Tomorrow you'll be normal. Just give me today. That was how fear stole whole lives away. — Dana Marton

Ah, you're warming up to me. You know what comes next."
"Bitter disappointment?" she deadpanned. — Dana Marton

He gathered her against him tightly, chest to chest, hip to hip. She wouldn't have minded staying there forever.
"I wanted to do this from the moment I saw you sleeping in my bed," he murmured against her mouth.
"I just wanted to shoot you," she said the first thing that popped into her dazed mind. — Dana Marton

You're not horribly terrible."
He shook his head at her. "You say the nicest things." He held her gaze for a moment. "You're not trying to get into my pants, are you? — Dana Marton

She was hot, he was a man; not being attracted would have been impossible. That gleaming dark hair tempted a man to find out what it would look like released from its tight bun. She had toned, endless legs. Her li8ps were distracting, especially that teasing mole in the corner. She could give a dead monk a boner. — Dana Marton

Quickly, Ian learned the danger of holding her. Once he allowed his arm around her, letting her go was nearly impossible. — Dana Marton

Her grandmother used to say there were men the devil put on earth to test good women. Clara was tempted to ask the guy whether he'd just zip-lined in from hell.
"Go away," she said instead.
His smile was worth a thousand words, most of them dirty. His voice dipped. "How can I, when your eyes begged me to come over? — Dana Marton

I'm a patient man, but I'm not going to wait endlessly."
"But...," She stammered.
"But what?"
"It's so fast."
He growled. "When I went slow, you wanted fast. Now I'm going fast, you want slow. Luanne Mayfair, are you trying to drive me crazy on purpose, or is it just a lucky side benefit as far as you're concerned? — Dana Marton

he had a strong premonition that ship had already sailed, been set on fire by pirates and sunk into the sea. — Dana Marton

Outrage steamed her brain. "I've waited three days... Do you know what day it is?"
He gave a one-sided shrug, his massive shoulder muscles shifting. "Who has time to check the calendar when people are shooting at you and snakes are biting you in the ass? — Dana Marton

I hope we'll be friends." His grin was pure sin....
She stuck with the truth. "I hope we won't be enemies. — Dana Marton

His voice still had the rasp of desire as he asked, "If I disappear, will you come and find me? — Dana Marton

The man's gaze hesitated on the four-inch cut on Joe's left cheek, courtesy of the log that had slapped him in the face on the river. With twenty-some stitches sticking out, the wound looked like a giant red caterpillar was crawling across Joe's face.
"Well, that'll disappoint the ladies." But then the captain grunted. "Never mind. With you, they'll probably like it, think it's all manly." He peered behind Joe. "Anyone naked in there?"
Joe stepped aside. "I'm having an off morning. — Dana Marton

She sighed. "You're not without fault, but you're not rotten. Although you're very disorderly. You're pigheaded, cocky beyond bearing, arrogant." She stopped when she realized she'd just said the same thing three times over. "You have a troubling obsession with vigilante justice." She cleared her throat. "Well, I'm sure there are things you don't like about me."
"You're not naked, and you're not under me." His voice was thick with passion. — Dana Marton

In the middle of the house stood the largest, scariest man she'd ever seen. Senhor Finch had been sunshine, but this foreigner was a night storm. He seemed to fill the house like a dark cloud. Too big, too strong, his gaze too sharp on her. And as she turned to flee, he thundered, "Stop!"
And the next second, the man had her arm in his grip. — Dana Marton

Nothing woke up a man as quickly in the morning as a scorpion in his pants. — Dana Marton

He updated his report, doing his best to tune out the two men who staggered into the police station, dragging each other.
"I want you to arrest this idiot bastard," the taller one shouted, face contorted with rage. "He shit on my front porch!"
Your dog shits all over my yard every day," the other one countered shoving.
Calm down, please," Leila said when they reached reception.
The tall one thumped a fist on the counter. "I want to make a police report. I stepped in that shit!"
Chase checked out the floor behind them, the questionable footprints. Made a mental note to walk around them when he left. — Dana Marton

He smiled. "I bet the paper ran something about you once your hiring was confirmed. A new cop is big news in a small town. People were probably admonished to make you feel at home."
She shook her head with some amusement. "I would have felt more at home if they shot at me,. — Dana Marton

She drew the main outline, keeping her fingers on the ferrule - the metal piece that clamped the bristles to the handle - and created a nose, mouth, and eyelids. For a moment, she wondered what color his eyes might be, then shoved aside the macabre thought. He had a strong, square jaw, his hair pushed back, looking sticky from the dirt that had been thrown directly onto his face. — Dana Marton

Okay, more disclosure. I'm not a fugitive at the moment, but I might become one. I don't know if I'm going back for a trial. I can't go to prison and leave the twins alone. We'll leave before it comes to that. I don't want to get you in trouble."
Hilda waved off the words. "I'm an old woman. They ain't gonna take me out of here in shackles. I've seen most of the local officers run around in diapers."
Luanne was pretty sure that didn't mean immunity. She'd seen Chase naked, and that hadn't stopped him from arresting her. She didn't tell that to Aunt Hilda. — Dana Marton

I can't find the words." She stared daggers at him.
"Don't hurt yourself trying. — Dana Marton

If we were in a spreadsheet, we'd be in different columns." She'd be under uptight/nerdy/homely girls, and he'd be under badass men with bodies of..um..Navy SEALS.
He grunted. "Just so you know, I hate spreadsheets with a hot, burning passion. — Dana Marton

Bing tightened his fingers around hers...."I know what I want."
She raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"
"Only you." And as he said the words, he felt a tremendous weight lifting from his chest. "It's always been only you..."
"All right." She narrowed her eyes. "But if you break my heart, I'm going to have Peaches have words with you."
"That's threatening a police officer. Technically."
"What are you going to do?" She flashed him a teasing smile. "Arrest me?"
He bent his head to hers, all the way to her ear. "Stick with me and there might just be some handcuffs in your future," he whispered.
She laughed out loud. "I'll take that as an incentive to speedily recover. — Dana Marton

Wendy Belle wasn't the type of model foreign princes married. Yes, tall and graceful, but she didn't radiate a Grace Kelly-like cold beauty. Her lips were too sensuous for that, her eyes too mysterious. Her face was beautiful and perfect in its own way. More than beautiful - interesting. She was the type of woman a man could look at for a lifetime and not get bored. — Dana Marton

She could drive down Hadley Road until she reached the right spot, then walk in. Would have to drive by the reservoir. She didn't drive that road anymore. But even if she could, she wasn't going to chase some imaginary dead man, or almost dead man, around the countryside. — Dana Marton

Her father didn't know the half of her problems. Nobody did. Nobody ever would. She couldn't let anyone find out just how crazy she was, the secret she kept. She would fight her way out of that dark hole somehow. She had to, or it would swallow her for good. — Dana Marton

Jasmine hurried along the Grand Canal, dodging a group of diehard revelers, glancing back over her shoulder for the hundredth time. She couldn't see Gabe Cannon anywhere.
Her teenage fantasy man was hunting her brother. She sure hadn't seen that coming. Freaking surreal.
He looked just as good as when she'd first met him at that airport and had fallen instantly in love over pizza and chips. One of those unavoidable pitfalls of life, really. He'd been more handsome than any of her pop idols, and her teenage emotions had been just begging for an outlet.
She cringed in embarrassment when she thought of all the melodramatic drivel she'd written about him in her high school diary. — Dana Marton

I get it. Artists are introverts. If you were out there socializing all the time, you wouldn't have time to contemplate and create. I have artists who are social butterflies. I'm not making a lot of money off them." She paused. — Dana Marton

She growled.
He gave her a considering look. "That's almost sexy. — Dana Marton

Why did you do that?" she asked, weakly, but, hey, the fact that she could talk at all was a minor miracle.
"You needed to be kissed."
For some reason, the tone of masculine satisfaction in his voice needled her. "I needed it? Really?"
"Fine, I needed it. — Dana Marton

No matter what her father wanted, no way was Clara going to partner up with Light Walker. He'd suggested a tarantula for a snack, for heaven's sake.
The were never, ever, ever going to work together. — Dana Marton

His last encounter with Wendy... Hell, she'd been the one to hurt his feelings.
The best sex of his life, and she'd kicked him out as soon as it was over, told him not to bother with calling because it was strictly a one-time thing. Told him, actually, while he'd still been inside her.
He groaned at the memory as he slipped behind the wheel, turning on the heat the second he had the engine started.
His day was shaping up to be an ass kicker. Which was saying something, considering that the day before included his arrest, a concussion, and a near drowning. — Dana Marton

As he waited for her, he braced himself for the sight of her, ready to turn out the light as soon as she reached her bed.
But when Daniela came in, she wasn't wearing her nightgown. She returned from the bathroom in a bath towel. And then she locked the door behind her and dropped the towel. Drops of water glistened on her naked skin as if she'd been painted with diamonds.
"Christ," he breathed. — Dana Marton

Something dropped on her shoulder, but even as she screamed, her heart stopping midbeat, the next oncoming branch swept the tarantula away.
Aww! Ick!
She manically brushed her shoulder with her free hand, every inch of her covered in goose bumps.
"When running from people who're trying to kill you," Walker advised as he kept dragging her, "it's better to stay quiet. Generally speaking. — Dana Marton

She sashayed into the kitchen like she lived there, and grabbed two glasses from the counter, rinsed them in the sink, all very domestic.
His eyes strayed to her breasts. "You came to do dishes?"
"I came to come." She winked, smiling from ear to ear.
"Gotta appreciate a straight-talking woman. — Dana Marton

Have you found your Christmas spirit yet? he asked as they drove by Broslin Square.
The decorations were out of control. "This place would make Liberace feel underdressed. — Dana Marton