Susannah Sandlin Quotes & Sayings

Everybody in Penton, even Hannah, was ridiculously strong - what did they put in their Wheaties? — Susannah Sandlin

Three centuries as a vampire and I get suckered by a pansy-ass little girl who hasn't been turned for a year. — Susannah Sandlin

Bones gotta have a special place of respect," she'd told Ceelie more times than she could count. "You treat them right and they'll always speak true."
"The bones never lie," Ceelie whispered, placing the last one - a tiny skull - into the box and closing the lid. — Susannah Sandlin

As soon as Will disappeared around the corner, Mirren stood up. Stealth was not the way of the gallowglass, and tonight, he was gallowglass and slayer, both. — Susannah Sandlin

Jena shook her head. "Paul needs a life."
"Paul needs a woman," Ceelie said. — Susannah Sandlin

You don't like to talk to people, do you? I mean, slamming the door in my face was a clue that was hard to miss. I'm perceptive like that. — Susannah Sandlin

There was something about a guy in a uniform most women found irresistible. Ceelie and Sonia had pondered this peculiar phenomenon over late-night glasses of moscato back in Nashville. They'd decided it had to be the belt and all the equipment that dangled from it when the guys walked, which not only was phallic but probably released extra sex pheromones into the air and turned women into nectar-seeking honeybees. — Susannah Sandlin

Ceelie preferred cats and small dogs, although they tended to be eaten by alligators around here, as she recalled. Munchability wasn't a desirable trait in a pet. — Susannah Sandlin

We can do slow and sweet later. I want you fast and rough, and I've been begging for a while now." She hooked a leg around his, bringing their bodies together as close as possible. "If you missed the memo, buddy, I've been trying to get you inside me half the day."
With a low groan, he picked her up and lowered her to the bed, his mouth and tongue setting up a rhythm to match the fingers he slid inside her. "Not that," she said. "You. Now."
"Bossy Cajun woman." He gave her a tousle-haired, lopsided grin as he rolled into the cradle of her thighs, positioning himself at her 'entrance... — Susannah Sandlin

I'll talk to her." Mirren's deep, rumbling voice sliced through the room like a cutter ship, leaving silence in its wake. "The rest of you, get the hell out. — Susannah Sandlin

What a voice. Deep, throaty, but not in a sexy way. In a haunted way. A voice full of heartbreak and ghosts.

I won't go back, I won't go home,
'Cause in this place, the dead still roam,
'Cause this time, Whiskey Bayou won't let me go. — Susannah Sandlin

You can beat your head against a wall trying to change the people you're supposed to love, or you can walk away and make your own way. — Susannah Sandlin

What takes more courage - doing what's normal and being miserable, or admitting what you need in order to be happy? — Susannah Sandlin

He'd danced around that story about why he'd moved to Terrebonne more smoothly than an Olympic skater on ice. — Susannah Sandlin

Mirren pulled the knife blade across the vampire's throat before he could answer. Two more strokes and it was done. Sometimes, one didn't need a sword to take a head. Rage and a good, sharp knife worked just fine. — Susannah Sandlin

How 'bout you, Jena?" He leaned closer, speaking in an exaggerated whisper. "We could go somewhere private. I know you probably got some scars from being shot, but you can't see a scar in the dark, right?"
The dickwad was offering her a pity fuck in a darkened room? — Susannah Sandlin

This might be the last chance he had to sit with her, the only chance he had to see her face holding concern for him rather than fear or contempt. Too bad she was still half-buzzed from the enthrallment. He lifted a dark curl away from her face, memorizing her features. — Susannah Sandlin

The lieutenant paused at the low, rhythmic hum sounding from inside the cabin, obviously loud enough for him to hear. Jena moved farther from the door. "What the hell is that?" he asked.
Jena lowered her voice. "It's Ceelie Savoie, chanting or singing or something." She paused, but couldn't resist adding, "She has some new chicken bones."
There was a long pause.
"Chicken bones. Golsalmighty." Warren sighed. — Susannah Sandlin

She glanced up at him. "Why does it matter? Why do you care?"
He'd been staring at her hands again, but jerked his gaze up to hers as if surprised by the question. He answered quickly, almost automatically. "I am a law enforcement officer. I found your aunt and saw what... that animal" -- he seemed to struggle with the words -- "I saw what he did. And we don't know why."
Ceelie nodded. "So this is how you'd treat anyone whose case you got involved with?"...
He leaned across the space that divided them, cupping his left hand around her jaw and pulling her toward him as if she were fragile, breakable. His kiss was soft, a pressure of lips, a slight parting, a promise of more. His stubble scratched her chin.
"That's the real answer." His voice was so soft the air around him seemed to soak it up. "And don't ask me what it means because I'll be damned if I know. — Susannah Sandlin

Morning, ma'am. I'm looking for Tommy Mason. Is he around?" Polite and professional, that was Senior Agent Broussard.
"Lord, what's that no-good sonofabitch done now? Wait, you ain't a cop; you're a game warden. "What'd he do, run over a fish? — Susannah Sandlin

Jena took a seat on the sofa, and Cole found himself with another dilemma. Should he sit next to her or take the other chair? Such a decision shouldn't feel momentous, but it did. It felt as momentous as a choice between the past and the future.
It felt like a choice between friendship and maybe more than friendship.
He sat next to her on the sofa. — Susannah Sandlin

I see you've got an unwanted visitor." He walked to stand beside Doris just as she poked at the gator with the table leg and caused it to hiss and back up again. "Ma'am, would you please not poke the gator anymore? Hissing is his way of telling you he doesn't much like that. — Susannah Sandlin

We have unfinished personal business I do believe." He smiled. "And I do love to make you blush."
"It clashes with my hair. — Susannah Sandlin

Everybody has scars; some are more visible than others, that's all. But anyone without a scar is someone I don't want to know because it's someone who doesn't feel things deeply. You have to understand loss to recognize a gift when you see it."
He leaned over and kissed her again. "You are my gift. I want to be yours, if you'll let me. — Susannah Sandlin

Mirren? Prickly? Say it ain't so. — Susannah Sandlin

The bones said death was comin', and the bones never lied.
Eva Savoie leaned back in the rocking chair and pushed it into motion on the uneven wide-plank floor of the one-room cabin. Her grand pere Julien had built the place more than a century ago, pulling heavy cypress logs from the bayou and sawing them, one by one, into the thick planks she still walked across ever day.
She had never known Julien Savoie, but she knew of him. The curse that had stalked her family for three generations had started with her grandfather and what he'd done all those years ago.
What he'd brought with him to Whiskey Bayou with blood on his hands.
What had driven her daddy to shoot her mama, and then himself, before either turned forty-five.
What had led Eva's brother, Antoine, to drown in the bayou only a half mile from this cabin, leaving a wife and infant son behind.
What stalked Eva now. — Susannah Sandlin