Quotes & Sayings About Her Voice

So you're not offended that I kissed you?" His voice was low and his smile widened. "I hardly think that's an appropriate question to ask a lady." She fought against her own smile. "I think you liked my kiss." "It was fair enough - " "Fair?" He leaned a hand against the door next to her head. "Admit it, Susanna. My kiss was swoon-worthy. — Jody Hedlund

Clary," he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. "Clary, it's me. It's me. — Cassandra Clare

Though she'd try to do otherwise, she had never been able to stop cluttering her present with her past. Now somebody she didn't know would pack her treasures into plastic bags and carry them away. A life, at its end, is a pile of cloth and paper, and goods that can be bagged and labelled. None of the best things - the voice and the laugh, the tilt of the head, the things seen and felt and spoken - are allowed to stay behind. — Sonya Hartnett

Fifteen love,' Chris said in a strong, clear voice as he set up for his next serve, and Elizabeth sensed that in addition to announcing the score, he was sending her a special message. A message about love ... — Francine Pascal

Her father said, "You know, my dears, the world has been abnormal for so long that we've forgotten what it's like to live in a peaceful and reasonable climate. If there is to be any peace or reason, we have to create it in our own hearts and homes." "Even at a time like this?" Meg asked. The call from Calvin, the sound of her husband's voice, had nearly broken her control. "Especially at a time like this," her mother said gently. — Madeleine L'Engle

He looked at the mud. "If I pull you free, will you promise to bed me for my pains?"

"Here's what I'll promise, Logan MacKenzie. If you don't get me free, I will come back from the grave and haunt you. Relentlessly."

"For a timid English bluestocking, you can be quite fierce when you choose to be. I rather like it."

She hugged herself to keep her hands out of the creeping mud. "Logan, please. I be you, stop teasing and get me out of this. I'm cold. And I'm frightened."

"Look at me."
She looked at him.
His gaze held hers, blue and unwavering.

All teasing went out his voice. "I'm not leaving. Ten years in the British Army, and I've never left a man behind. I'm not leaving you. I'll have you out of this. Understand? — Tessa Dare

Melody exploded. "THIS ISN'T LIKE GETTING A FISH TO SEE IF I COULD BE RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH FOR A PUPPY!" She took a deep breath, calmed herself and lowered her voice. She then repeated the statement as if doing so removed the stink of the outburst.

"I'm well aware of that," said Lonnie. "And not to poke it with a stick, but you don't see any puppies sniffing around that empty fish bowl, do you? — B.M.B. Johnson

Isabelle is like a warrior going into battle and she needs ... you said yes? You'd really choose an inexperienced squire?" she asked, her voice incredulous.
He laughed. "I would."
She smiled. "You're lying to me to make me feel better. It's all right. It's working. Now tell
me another lie. — Julie Garwood

And what is it you want?" Her breath caressed his lips. Her eyes were nearly closed, and she leaned her body closer to his. "I want to see you laugh and smile every day. I want to hear you tell me you love me. I want to kiss you . . . every day." He pulled her body against his. "Now tell me you love me." "You are very impertinent," she said, her voice breathless and her cheeks turning pink, — Melanie Dickerson

Who am I? Laia muttered to her invisible audience, and they knew the answer and told it to her with one voice. She was the little girl with scabby knees, sitting on the doorstep staring down through the dirty golden haze of River Street in the heat of late summer, the six-year-old, the sixteen-year-old, the fierce, cross, dream-ridden girl, untouched, untouchable. She was herself — Ursula K. Le Guin

She took off her engagement and
wedding rings and walked over to me. "I don't want anything to happen to these while I'm there."
I clasped both of her hands in mine. "It's not the rings I'm worried about."
A faint smile crossed her lips, and even though the face was different, there was a feel to that smile
that was uniquely Sydney. "I'll be fine ... but I want you to hold on to these for me until I get back."
"Deal," I said in a low voice that only she could hear, "but I get to put them back on you."
"Okay," she said.
"On my knees," I added.
"Okay."
"And we both have to be nake - "
"Adrian," she said warningly.
"We'll discuss the terms later," I said with a wink. — Richelle Mead

I'll show up at every classroom open house and teacher conference,' she said, now in a voice that was almost frightening in its intensity. 'I'll bake brownies. My child will have new clothes. Her shoes will fit. She'll get her shots, and she'll get her braces. We'll start a college fund next week. I'll tell her I love her every damn day.'
If that wasn't a great plan for being a good mother, I couldn't imagine what a better one could be. — Charlaine Harris

As soon as the door closed, Levi popped his eyes again. Bluely. "That's your twin sister?"
"Identical," Reagan said, like she had a mouth full of hair.
Cath nodded and sat down at her desk.
"Wow." Levi scooted down the bed so he was sitting across from her.
"I'm not sure what you're getting at," Cath said, "but I think it's offensive."
"How can the fact that your identical twin sister is super hot be offensive to you?"
"Because," Cath said, still too encouraged by Wren and, weirdly, by Abel, and maybe even by Nick to let this get to her right now. "It makes me feel like the Ugly One."
"You're not the ugly one." Levi grinned. "You're just the Clark Kent."
Cath started checking her e-mail.
"Hey, Cath," Levi said, kicking her chair. She could hear the teasing in his voice. "Will you warn me when you take off your glasses? — Rainbow Rowell

I love you," he said softly, his hand stroking her back. "And I'll do anything for you. You know that, right?"
Mia smiled, her heart overflowing with emotion. "I love you more..."
"That would be impossible," he told her, and the intensity in his voice startled her. "I love you so much it hurts. — Anna Zaires

You are no one in my life," she said in a voice fraught with tension. "You cannot tell me what to - "
"Oh, I can," he bit out, his voice a gravelly purr that abraded her skin and sparked something inside her. His hand slid around her nape and hauled her closer. His pirate's eyes swallowed her up and forced all the air out from her lungs in one great rush. "I will."
She opened her mouth to protest, but his mouth covered hers. Claimed her. It was the only word for it. This was a taking. And she the taken. — Sophie Jordan

Current relationship status?" Her voice cut like an arctic chill blowing through the room.
"If you mean me, then you're not my type. If you mean my dad, he's single, but I don't think you're his type either," I said with a small smile. Mercy didn't find it amusing. A small blue vein in her forehead started throbbing like crazy ... "Actually, come to think of it, I don't think he has a type. I've never seen him with a woman.
Mercy, I hate to break it to you, but there's a very real possibility my dad is gay. — Jus Accardo

They were opposite in so many ways, but it was the kind of difference that was balancing-her softness with his steel, his instinct and her logic. He was teaching her by example to have courage in the face of fear, and she badly wanted to help him give voice to his grief and understand it was all right to feel pain. — Melissa Cutler

Fear-Dog told me . . . we must return to our camp," he growled, his voice throaty with drool. "Now?" whimpered the little brown dog. "Now. Immediately." Terror swiped a trembling paw at her face, though this time he missed. "He says . . . we are to kill any strange dogs. Kill them all. Kill them on sight. Now go! — Erin Hunter

Anastasia," I say, in good-bye. "Christian," she answers, her voice soft. — E.L. James

So what? You act all mysterious to seem more interesting?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're always wandering off or running away," he said. "But you're a lot more
interesting when you're just being yourself you know. When you're actually here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Emma said coldly. "Where else would I be?"

"You know what I mean," he said, a rough edge to his voice. "It's like you're so busy trying not to act like your family that you've never even stopped to consider that it might not be such a bad thing."

"Well what about you?" she shot back, aware of the bitterness in her words.
"You complain about your dad not wanting you around, and then you complain when he wants you to stay home for school. You can't have it both wars."

"Well neither can you," he said. " You can't keep everyone at arms length and then expect them to be there for you when you need them. — Jennifer E. Smith

Recently I made the mistake of opening a bundle of reviews that someone had sent me of a production from years and years ago, and someone had written a really lovely review except that it made a remark about the way I spoke: 'A lot of people find her voice terribly irritating.' Do they? I had no idea. — Lindsay Duncan

Brianna! Is Sam okay?" Astrid cried.
"No. Drake tore him up." She wanted to sound tough, but the sobs came bubbling up and overtook her. "Oh, God, Astrid, he's hurt so bad."
Astrid gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. Brianna put her arms around Astrid and sobbed into her hair.
"Is he going to die?" Astrid asked, voice wobbly.
"No, I don't think so," Brianna said. She stood back and wiped her tears. "I gave him something for the pain. But he's messed up, Astrid. — Michael Grant

I thought I'd stumbled on Sleeping Beauty and her ugly sister,' said another voice, 'waiting for the kiss of true love to wake them from their slumbers. Forgive me if I didn't oblige. — John Flanagan

I'm going to shoot him," I squeezed through my teeth. "No, that would be murder," Grandma Frida told me, her voice soothing. "You've had a long day. Let's put your magic away. You know what you need? A nice cup of chamomile tea and a tranquilizer . . ." I — Ilona Andrews

Her voice sounded like money. — F Scott Fitzgerald

I'd had much practice turning my mind away from certain memories of my childhood. I could quickly dial her remembered voice from a whisper to a silence. — Dean Koontz

He ran his hand from my wrist up to the crook of my elbow and then to my shoulder. "When I was a little kid, my dad would come to my room at night to say a prayer with me. He used to say, 'Lord, We know there's a little girl out there who's meant for Henry. Please protect her and raise her up right.'" His voice changed to something slower and more country when he mimicked his dad. He smiled at the memory, and then he put his mouth near my ear and whispered. "You were that little girl. — Laura Anderson Kurk

Kiss me good."
Jordan went on tiptoe and kissed him with everything she had. His mouth mashed against hers just as greedily, tongues tangling, hearts beating wildly against each other. The embrace of his arms tightened, and he lifted her. She didn't need a stupid floor with him near. Together they could fly.
"Bow chicks wow wow," said another voice. — Erin Kellison

In two easy strides, I reach her, weave my arms around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. My angel is so light she practically floats. "Isaiah! You're crazy!"
"Insane," I answer.
She rests her forehead against mine and braids her hands tightly on my neck. "That was close. He almost got you in the end."
I love the sensation of her body against mine. Tonight, I'm going to kiss her again and, if she'll let me, I'll explore a little further. "Were you doubting me?"
She smiles when she notices the lightness in my voice. "Never."
That's right, angel. I'll never let you down. — Katie McGarry

The deep baritone of his voice, and the words he uttered, held Haley spellbound. Was she beautiful? As she'd looked in the mirror at the glimmering teal gown, she'd felt ... different, more attractive. But would she go so far as to say she was beautiful? No one had ever told her she was - certainly not her grandparents - so how could she think that of herself? — Melody Anne

But just then, as if to avoid a certain awkwardness, Seaman began to talk not about Newell but about Newell's mother, Anne Jordan Newell. He described her appearance (pleasing), her work (she had a job at a factory that made irrigation systems), her faith (she went to church every Sunday), her industriousness (she kept the house as neat as a pin), her kindness (she always had a smile for everyone), her common sense (she gave good advice, wise advice, without forcing it on anyone). A mother is a precious thing, concluded Seaman. Marius and I founded the Panthers. We worked whatever jobs we could get and we bought shotguns and handguns for the people's self-defense. But a mother is worth more than the Black Revolution. That I can promise you. In my long and eventful life, I've seen many things. I was in Algeria and I was in China and in several prisons in the United States. A mother is a precious thing. This I say here and I'll say anywhere, anytime, he said in a hoarse voice. — Roberto Bolano

Sally Barris has a voice like sparkling crystal. You could have knocked me over with a feather the first time I heard her. Her writing is from a deep, yet innocent, place and her point of view is just a bit off center. I am excited for her, she is standing at the beginning of her journey in this town, with all of it ahead of her. It reminds me of the first time I heard Beth Nielson-Chapman or Nanci Griffith. It's going to be fun to watch. — Kathy Mattea

Blanche stared at Emmeline's door for a few moments, bristling with the desire to knock and trying to conquer her natural inclination to defy the voice of authority. It was one of the reasons she had not lasted in the waitressing, telephone sales, clerking, and typing jobs she'd tried over the years. — Barbara Neely

Renia, tell me: does the thought of dying scare you?'
He asked softly, and with such concern in his voice, that it all welled up in her at once and caught her by surprise.
'Yes.' Her voice broke, and the tears came. She could not stop them. 'Is that what I must do, to save them? — Helen Bell

I am not saying I will vote against John Ashcroft because he is pro-life, .. But let me say if someone was nominated for attorney general who was vehemently pro choice
who in his or her career spent decades trying to find ways to expand the law abortion at nine months would be perfectly legal
wouldn't you be more upset and raise more of a voice than against a nominee who was simply pro-choice?. — Charles Schumer

It's the truth." Her voice was barely more than breath.
"I believe you." He was gently kissing his way along her jaw. "You came all this way to bring me a photo."
"Yes." She said. "Well, I can..this morning..here bring it."
He raised his head, "What?"
She glared at him, "I can't talk when you're doing that."
He grinned, dimples appearing. "Sorry. Say it again. — Mary Jane Hathaway

He's that senior offensive lineman I told you about who's coming off the injured reserve list. Anyway, Coach is concerned that he won't be ready to play at full--"
Mimi drops her head on the bar and starts to snore out loud. Very loud. So loud that a couple of patrons stop and stare at us.
"Mimi," I say in a low voice, "what the hell?"
She pops her head back up and rubs her eyes as if she just woke up from a catnap. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Katy. I was just so bored I fell right to sleep while you were talking about sports. Again. For like the millionth time. — Barbie Bohrman

Helen spent three days in Rhys Winterbournes's room babbling incessantly while he lay there feverish and mostly silent. She became heartily tired of the sound of her own voice, and said something to that effect near the end of the second day.
"I'm not," he said shortly. "Keep talking. — Lisa Kleypas

How old are you exactly?"
The corner of his mouth curved up, the grin so ridiculously sexy it made butterflies take flight in her stomach. "Thirty-two."
"Hmm, eight year difference. Not exactly robbing the cradle, but I think I might have to rethink this whole thing between us." She kept her voice light, teasing.
He snorted and pinched her butt, making her yelp. "Think all you want, I'm not going anywhere. — Katie Reus

Just dinner?"
If there was a God in heaven, no was the answer to that.
"Whatever else is up to you and that little voice inside you telling you to jump my bones like a trampoline, darlin'."
This time she did roll her eyes. "How charming."
"Trust me, my charm isn't what the ladies love most about me. — Avery Flynn

It grew louder, siren crying from her the depth of very voice; Sweet melodies to
guide me to the underworld. — Chika Onyenezi

How I have yearned for the sound of your sweet voice," Tyrion sighed to her. "How I have yearned to have that eunuch's tongue pulled out with hot pincers," Cersei replied. — George R R Martin

It was Cinder's voice. "Hello, dearest Aunt Levana," she said, her tone light and taunting. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to make sure I had your full attention. First, allow me to congratulate you. It seems you finally have everything you've always wanted. Now, it's my turn." There — Marissa Meyer

I really knew how to speak - from my female voice, that "different voice" that Carol Gilligan so presciently described many years ago in her groundbreaking book. Because if we try to speak in a voice that isn't ours, we lose our power. — Elizabeth Lesser

There's something very sinister about a woman who is predatory but has an absurd voice working as a disservice to her. — Claudia Black

That's the second time you called me 'honey.' I can't decide if I like it or if
I'm starting to feel objectified," he teased.
She sighed. "I seriously don't think I can walk down an aisle with you."
His voice dipped lower, a slow drawl. "Careful, Sinclair. Those are very heady words to a guy like
me."
She left him standing there, by himself, at the base of the steps.
With a grin, he turned and watched her go. Yep, still cantankerous.
But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the view from behind. — Julie James

I told you you'd come," said a nearby voice, one Isobel knew well. "You said you would."
( ... )
"You shouldn't have, though," he said, and looked up, his face twisted with anger. "Even if we knew you would, you shouldn't have." He got up and began moving toward her.
"Why," he growled, "when we will only show you we are not worth it? Why, when we have no other choice but to prove to you we're not worth it? — Kelly Creagh

Yes! Yes. Thank you. I'm on my way right now, so I'll see you later, you know, like, in five minutes. And I'll just wait in the car - you can send them out so we don't take up any more of your time. So say hi to Clark for me, you know, since I might not get a chance to talk to you from the car. But thanks so much for watching the kids for me, and I'll see you later . . . in five."

There was a pause. Then Angela's voice piped up, as enthusiastic as ever.

"Okay, see you later in five!"

Oh great, Becky thought as she jogged back to her car. Now Angela would be using that phrase, convinced it was a real idiom. And it would be all Becky's fault. As if the poor lady didn't have enough communication problems as it was, what with the excessive exclaiming. — Shannon Hale

Cord softened his voice as he addressed Anne. "Thought I'd see if you want to come home with me, babe."
She crossed the room in two leaps and threw herself at him. Cord kept the rifle trained on Wells, but he caught Anne with his left arm and crushed her to him. He buried his mouth and nose in her hair and breathed deeply of her.
Until this moment there had been no room for any emotion but fear in Cord. Now, with Anne safe in his arms, rage seared through him. If they did not get out of here quickly, he would leave the room drenched in blood. — Ellen O'Connell

Rosie, it's okay, it's me."
She knew that voice. She pulled the hand off her mouth.
"Pip?"
He let her go and she spun around.
He smiled, blue eyes glinting. "Surprise."
For a second she was too stunned to move, then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, almost knocking him off balance. — Lara Morgan

He walked over to Jacque, whose head was bowed and turned so that her neck was bared. It was like she knew instinctively to submit so as to not provoke the dominant wolf and hopefully she would subdue him in her surrender. Fane's wolf must have been the one in control of the wheel because he leaned down over Jacque and growled low. He placed his face against her neck, breathing deep, and his voice was guttural when he spoke. "Mine."
Jacque turned her head slightly and did what no other would ever be able to do when this Alpha was at this point, she looked him in the eyes. "Yes, I am yours." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Fane pulled his power in and all of a sudden it was like a weight had been lifted and they could breathe again.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 95). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

The intensity echoed through her, the same excitement he felt. He knew what she wanted
he'd sensed it. He could please her.
She wants your voice, as well as your body. And he didn't even need to think to find the right words to say. He simply let them fall from his lips to her ears. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured. "That you're real. — Cara McKenna

[Rick] "Tara."
The sound of his voice snapped her away from the memories. His command brooked no argument as he looked up from between her spread thighs.
"Eyes on me."
His voice told her not to think, dominated every part of her soul, until she couldn't fight him, and she slipped firmly back into the present. — Jennifer Probst

She gulped her whiskey sour. The bar was hot tonight.
CJ circled back to check on them. "You ladies doing okay?"
"Define okay." Natalie's whiskey seemed to be talking. Because the whiskey was the only thing that could've put that husky, suggestive tone in her voice. Yep, that was all the whiskey.
He propped his elbows on the bar, which put his face level with hers, and fixed his undivided attention on her. There went her lady bits fanning themselves. With a few added whimpers. They remembered what his hands and body and lips felt like too.
"Content." His voice was low and raw, his gaze penetrating and unwavering. "Happy. Completely, one hundred percent satisfied."
Her mouth went dry while the rest of her went up in needy flames that made her want to scratch the all-but-gone rash he'd tended so well on Monday.
"Nope," Natalie squeaked. "Not okay then. — Jamie Farrell

You are too kind." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "But what has marriage to offer me that I don't already have?"
There were many ways to answer that question, but having care for her innocence, Lachlan refrained from the blunt one. One glance at that beautiful face and lush body, and he need look no further for a reason why the lass should be wed: swiving. And lots of it. — Monica McCarty

Don't tell me," Jace said, "Simon's turned himself into an ocelot and you want me to do something about it before Isabelle makes him into a stole. Well, you'll have have to wait till tomorrow. I'm out of commission." He pointed at himself - he was wearing blue pajamas with a hole in the sleeve. "Look. Jammies."
"Jace," Clary said, "this is important."
"Don't tell me," he said. "You've got a drawing emergency. You need a nude model. Well, I'm not in the mood. You could always ask Hodge," he said as an afterthought. "I hear he'll do anything for a -"
"JACE!" she interrupted him, her voice rising to a scream. "JUST SHUT UP FOR A SECOND AND LISTEN, WILL YOU? — Cassandra Clare

We should never, ever believe life - or history holds no surprises for us. That was lies arrogance. And arrogance can blind us to the truth."
"Which truth?"
"Any truth. All truth." her voice was solemn — Kay Hooper

Charles loved her voice. It was so soft and blurred, like pastels. It made his neck tingle just to listen to her. It gave him the same delicious feeling he had as he hovered on the brink of sleep and this feeling - until now - had been the single most pleasant feeling in his life. It was the voice that coloured everything he now thought about her. It was shy and tentative and musical. Sometimes he did not manage to hear the words she said, but he did not let on about his deafness. — Peter Carey

She didn't know Matt had followed her until he grabbed her shoulder, halting her headlong rush to nowhere. He turned her into his arms, pulled her against his chest, crushed her mouth in a searing kiss.
"Shane," he said when he raised his head from hers. "I love you. I love you."
Her heart opened and the wall inside her trembled as she clung to him. "Burn me up, Matt," she said, her voice a ragged whisper. "Burn it away. Please, please, burn it all away."
She heard him growl deep in his throat and he lifted her into his arms in one swift movement.
As he carried her back across the parking lot and through the door of her room, she rained kisses on his neck and the hard line of his jaw. His skin was warm and damp and tasted of salt and desire. — Jane Taylor Starwood

Our memories and the events of our lives are untidy things. We wish that we could file them away and shut the door, or we wish the opposite - that they would stay with us forever. You want to banish the remembrance of a tight hold on your ankle, a rope under a bed, the amber-colored medicine bottles of your father, the door your mother slams after a night of too much wine and jealousy. You want to keep close to you always that first sweet kiss, a maple leaf, that growing sense of yourself; you want to hold the sight of your dying father on that last boat trip, the calm you remember as your mother held you. Her voice. — Deb Caletti

Sarah, though, was still sometimes ruled by stark pain, lost to everything else. Grief slipped away, only to attack from behind. It changed shape endlessly. It lacerated her, numbed her, stalked her, startled her, caught her by the throat. It deceived her eye with glimpses of Charles, her ear with the sound of his voice. She would turn and turn, expecting him, and find him gone. Again. Each time Sarah escaped her sorrow, forgetful amid other things, she lost him anew the instant she remembered he was gone. — Kate Maloy

Keep your mouth shut around me," he says, his voice low, "or I will do this again, only next time, I'll shove it right through your esophagus."
"That's enough," Evelyn says. Edward drops the fork and releases Peter. Then he walks across the room and sits next to the person who called him "Eddie" a moment before.
"I don't know if you know this," Tobias says, "but Edward is a little unstable."
"I'm getting that," I say.
"That Drew guy, who helped Peter perform that butter-knife maneuver," Tobias says. "Apparently when he got kicked out of Dauntless, he tried to join the same group of factionless Edward was a part of. Notice that you haven't seen Drew anywhere."
"Did Edward kill him?" I say.
"Nearly," Tobias says. "Evidently that's why that other transfer--Myra, I think her name was?--left Edward. Too gentle to bear it. — Veronica Roth

Brian's face broke out in a wide grin as he slapped Roarke on the back. "That's a woman, isn't it?"
"Delicate as a rose, my Eve. Fragile and quiet natured." He grinned himself when he heard her curse, loud and vicious. "A voice like a flute."
"And you're sloppy in love with her."
"Pitifully. — J.D. Robb

He sat down and played again that piece of Scriabin's that Lydia thought he played so badly, and as he began he had a sudden recollection of that stuffy, smoky cellar to which she had taken him, of those roughs he had made such friends with, and of the Russian woman, gaunt and gipsy-skinned, with her enormous eyes, who had sung those wild, barbaric songs with such a tragic abandon. Through the notes he struck he seemed to hear her raucous, harsh and yet deeply moving voice. Leslie Mason had a sensitive ear. — W. Somerset Maugham

It comes for you," Lindsay repeated, her voice hideously broken. "You will pass into the sea nothing more than a blackened scaffold, and your dark mistress will not recall your name, for she has swallowed a million of your lecherous kind before you, and she will swallow a million more before she's done. — Matt Tomerlin

For a long moment there was only the sound of her soft, half-gasping little breaths, and the thud of his heart, loud in his ears. He had never felt this ... this liberation, this unfettered contentment. Not with another woman, not after a hard day of accomplishment, not after a brilliant business maneuver, not even after beating his brothers at anything. His body was wrung out with physical satisfaction, his mind fely fogged and sluggish, but his head ...
'If this be madness,' came Francesca's weak voice from behind the shining veil of her hair, 'lead me to Bedlam.'
'Perhpas tomorrow. I don't think I can make it further than the bed. — Caroline Linden

Livy." His voice deepened to nearly guttural. Desire unfurled in her abdomen. Then reality slammed her in the face.
"Are you glamoring me?" she asked, anger rippling along her skin.
His eyebrows drew down. "Glamoring?"
"Yeah. What vampires do." She put her hands on her hips. "Making me want you."
He chuckled again. "Oh, you want me, and it's all you. There's no such thing as glamoring."
Truth. She opened her senses, and he was definitely telling the truth. "Oh. — Rebecca Zanetti

Evie is our beautiful, dark-haired, green-eyed child,' I say. I can hear the tremor in my voice. 'Like many seven-year-old girls, she's obsessed with princesses. We think she looks more like a fairy. She loves Lego and painting. She laughs easily. She has pretend tea parties in a tree in our garden and invites all her dolls. She wants to be an artist when she grows up. Please find her. Please bring her back to us. We miss her beyond measure. She is the love of our life. — Sanjida Kay

Why are you all buttoned up like that?" Cameron ran his gaze down the blackberry-shaped buttons of her bodice.[ ... ] "You were happy to bare all last night," Cameron said. He let his mallet handler hover an inch from her chest. "Your bodice was down here."
Ainsley cleared her throat. "Low neckline for evening, high for morning."[ ... ]
"This doesn't suit you," Cameron said.
"I can't help the fashion, Lord Cameron."
Cameron poked the top button with his gloved finder. "Undo this."
Ainsley jumped. "What?"
"Unbutton your damned frock."
She nearly choked. "Why?"
"Because I want you to." Cameron's smile spread across his face, slow and sinful, and his voice went low. Dangerous. "Tell me, Mrs. Douglas. How many buttons will you undo for me? — Jennifer Ashley

You should hate me," she said brokenly. "You should leave me - "
"Hush." His grip tightened, just short of bruising her. "Do you think so little of me? Damn you." He crushed his lips in her hair. "You don't understand anything about me. Did you think I wouldn't want to help you? That I would abandon you if I knew?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Damn you," he repeated, his voice choked with anger and love. He forced her face upward. The hopelessness in her eyes caused a cold pressure to squeeze around his heart. — Lisa Kleypas

He tested the knots, as though he gave a shit. "Is it too tight?" Ian asked, his voice quiet and serious. She stayed silent, not willing to give him anything. He'd taken her world away and then expected her to submit? "Charlie, baby, talk to me. I can't stand this. I hate that I shut you down. I don't want to. I want to be cold. I want to not care. I can't. I can't let you go." "You're taking away my options." "Because I gave them all to you last time and you fucking didn't choose me. You chose everyone but me. I'll fix this. I'll save you. Choose me, Charlie. Choose us. Trust me. Give me the option of being your hero. — Lexi Blake

Who's a good boy," Willa was saying to the dog in a light, silly voice that had the dog panting happily into her face.
"That's right," she cooed, "you are, aren't you? Aren't you a good boy?"
"Well I don't like to brag," Keane said, leaning against the doorjamb. "But I do have my moments. — Jill Shalvis

Velius
so who is she? no wait, let me guess. skin of the finest porcelain. hair of the softest silk. a voice like birdsong, a smile like sunshine, and a mouth that would sate your brightest and darkest wishes
Rumbold
You've m-met her?
Velius
oh yes, my friend. we all know her. we've all pursued her. some of us have even been lucky enough to have her. we've been drunk on her sin, become fools of her favor. she might have borne a different face each time, but her name was always the same. Trouble — Alethea Kontis

Shame isn't bad, her voice from somewhere else insists. Nor the humility that is its gift. — William Trevor

Healthy children are born from healthy, respected, well-nourished and educated mothers and it is imperative that they have a voice in the decisions which affect them. If you empower a mother and let her have her say towards a poverty-free future, the positive impact this would have on ending hunger will be immense. — Dionne Warwick

If I could, I would take you with me," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
She tried to pull away from him. "You would not. You would grow tired of me in a few weeks."
He shook his head, pulling her tight against him. "No ... I could never grow tired of you."
"How can you be so sure?" she asked.
He brushed tendrils of hair from her face. "I have craved to know you for years ... even just to hear you speak my name ... a single touch of your hand on mine ... "
He kissed her softly, his lips tasting hers. "I want you to be mine ... I want you always."
- 'unknown script' 2012 — Faye Hall

Bramble had taken another pencil from Delphinium, and Azalea's napkin, and wrote something new.
You're afraid of the King. Admit it.
Azalea grimaced at her untouched food, burning in humiliation as Lord Bradford took the napkin and read it. This time, he looked to be discreetly writing something back beneath the table.
Fairweller blinked at the King for a moment, in which Lord Bradford handed Bramble her napkin. She opened it and turned a rosy pink.
My lady, it read,who isn't?
Bramble pursed her lips and kicked Lord Bradford beneath the table-hard. His face twitched befre regaining its solemn expression.Azalea buried her face in her hands.
"All we ask is for you to consider it. That is all," said Fairweller.
"Oh." Lord Bradford's voice was slightly strangled. "Yes. Thank you."
Bramble threw the pencil-smudged napkin onto her plate. "I'm done," she said. "May we go to our room now? — Heather Dixon

What shall I do?" she asked in a small voice.
"Forget your own self," he said.
"But all these years," she urged, "I have so carefully fulfilled my duty."
"Always with the thought of your own freedom in your mind," he said.
She could not deny it. She sat motionless, her hands folded on the pearl-gray satin of her robe. "Direct me," she said at last.
"Instead of your own freedom, think how you can free others," he said gently.
She lifted her head.
"From yourself," he said still gently. — Pearl S. Buck

She said Robert Joyner had killed himself with a gun. And then I asked why, and then she told me that he was getting a divorce and was sad about it.'
'Lots of people get divorces and don't kill themselves,' I said.
'I know,' she said, excitement in her voice. 'That's what I told her. — John Green

In a fairy tale, the story can't be altered. The prince and princess will never have a fight. You'll never hear the queen raise her voice. No on ever gets sick; no one ever gets hurt. Maybe love is only safe in places where it can't change. — Jodi Picoult

That's too bad, because you're going to get me," I say hoarsely, and her struggles abruptly cease. "You're going to get these rough hands that need to touch you. These eyes that will never tire of looking at you. These arms that will hold you steady or lift you up whenever you need their strength. This head that's crazy about every little thing you do." My voice deepens. "And you're going to get this heart that's already falling in love with you. — Kati Wilde

Kammy jerked upright. It was as though the trees had parted beneath the pressure of the storm and a bolt of lightning had struck her. She had never entered the mouth for it had always been much too small. Yet, she had never seen anything else enter it either. The thought alone made her feel sick with excitement and fear. A small voice told Kammy that such a reaction was ridiculous, it was just a squirrel. But warmth spread to the tips of Kammy's fingers as they stretched forward. She could see now that it was not a burrow at all, but a tunnel large enough for her to fit through. She was quite sure that she would not even have to bend her head. The same small voice tried to speak again but Kammy could not hear it through the rush of blood in her ears.
Kammy stepped inside the mouth of the forest and felt herself flipped upside down. — Natalie Crown

As Tristan left the darkroom he heard Lacey's soap opera voice. "And so our two heroes part," she said, "blinded by love, neither of them listening to the wise and beautiful Lacey" - she hummed a little - "who, by the way, is getting a broken heart of her own. But who cares about Lacey?" she asked sadly. "Who cares about Lacey? — Elizabeth Chandler

mong the hundred thousand mysterious influences which a man exercises over a woman who loves him, I doubt if there is any more irresistible to her than the influence of his voice. I am not one of those women who shed tears on the smallest provocation: it is not in my temperament, I suppose. But when I heard that little natural change in his tone my mind went back (I can't say why) to the happy day when I first owned that I loved him. I burst out crying. — Wilkie Collins

I made such a fool of myself," she lamented.
"Love does not make you a fool."
"He didn't love me back."
"That does not make you a fool, either."
"Just tell me ... " Her voice cracked. "When does it stop hurting?"
"Sometimes never. — Mitch Albom

Actually," the chief guardian said in a calm voice, "you have no rights at all. But I am going to tell you the decision so that there will be no misunderstanding. "The orphan girl Kira will stay. She will have a new role." He gestured toward the Singer's robe, still spread out on the table. "Kira," he said, looking at her, "you will continue your mother's work. You will go beyond her work, actually, since your skill is far greater than hers was. First, you will repair the robe, as your mother always did. Next, you will restore it. Then your true work will begin. You will complete the robe. — Lois Lowry

I think,' Olympia said slowly, 'that I know you quite well.' She looked down at the deck and added in a carefully mild voice, 'You can be a scoundrel; I know that. You stole from me and betrayed me and lied to me. You have no morals and no ideals; you think of yourself first and you're a coward sometimes on that account.' She hesitated, chewing her lip. 'What people call a coward, anyway. I don't know what cowardice is anymore. I don't know what heroism is.' She looked up. 'But I know one thing, and I learned it from you. I know what courage means. It means to pick up and go on, no matter what. It means having a heart of iron, like they say. You have that. — Laura Kinsale

Piper had a new entry in her top-ten list of Times Piper Felt Useless.
Fighting Shrimpzilla with a dagger and a pretty voice? Not so effective. — Rick Riordan

It's too late," she said, her voice trembling. "You are not the beautiful innocent vagabond walking toward me under the dogwood blossoms, with his trunks and his head full of worthless notions. And I am not the beloved, cherished ladies' maid ... — Geraldine Brooks

The words (she was looking at the window) sounded as if they were floating like flowers on water out there, cut off from them all, as if no one had said them, but they had come into existence of themselves. "And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves." She did not know what they meant, but, like music, the words seemed to be spoken by her own voice, outside her self, saying quite easily and naturally what had been in her mind the whole evening while she said different things. — Virginia Woolf

My mom always wanted a bunch of kids, but they stopped after me. I never understood why."
His voice was wistful. Haven closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Maybe they realized they created perfection when they made you and didnt need anymore. — J.M. Darhower

Her singing voice is the sound of a body falling downstairs, and she speaks as if the hangman's hands are at her throat. — Morrissey

Phoenix sank to the desk chair and stared at her computer screen. "I don't know. I've lived like this for so long, it's who I am. Everything seems so stupid. Like, look at this girl,writing to Sasha. She's all" - he spoke in a falsetto voice - "'OMG!' and 'LOL!' and 'WTF?' and 'Girl, you should totes go out with Tyler in Telluride!'" He looked up at her."You're seventeen years old, and this is how seventeenyear-olds talk to each other. I'm a thousand years old, and this stuff is like alien-speak to me. If I found another Anabo,she'd be writing OMG and I'd be thinking, You're f'ing
kidding me. — Trinity Faegen

Sometimes he caught himself listening to the sound of his own voice. He thought that in her eyes he would ascent to an angelical stature; and, as he attached the fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to him, he heard the strange impersonal voice which he recognised as his own, insisting on the soul's incurable lonliness. We cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own. — James Joyce

Russ decided the best defense was a good offense. "I'm Russell Van Alstyne, Millers Kill chrief of police." He held out his hand. She shook firm, like a guy.
"Clare Fergusson," she said. "I'm the new priest at Saint Alban's. That's the Episcopal Church. At the corner of Elm and Church." there was a faint testiness in her voice. Russ relaxed a fraction. A woman priest. If that didn't beat all.
"I know which it is. There are only four churches in town." He saw the fog creeping along the edges of his glasses again and snatched them off, fishing for a tissue in his pocket. "Can you tell me what happened, um ... " What was he supposed to call her? "Mother?"
"I go by Reverend, Chief. Ms. is fine, too."
"Oh. Sorry. I never met a woman priest before."
"We're just like the men priests, except we're willing to pull over and ask directions. — Julia Spencer-Fleming

Her voice was warm and husky as a clarinet, but not so sad as a clarinet: friendlier. When she laughed, it was like a clarinet blowing bubbles. — Katherine Catmull

Papi looked down at the side-view mirror, at the pine branches sticking out from behind the truck, and every time Rocio raised her voice, singing and screaming at the same time, it felt like the front seats were flooding with water. — Mario Alberto Zambrano

Now her voice was loud and clear. This can happen to anyone. — Liane Moriarty

If the first kiss made me hollow this kiss fills me up. I've been waiting for this since the day I met her, since I saw her dreams, since her voice began haunting me, since I got to know the person she is, since our minds connected. Everything has come to this. — Saruuh Kelsey

- and there, on the table under her bedroom window, lies the voice that has set her dreaming again. Fragments of a life lived a long, long time ago. Across a hundred years the woman's voice speaks to her - so clearly that she cannot believe it is not possible to pick up her pen and answer. — Ahdaf Soueif