Romance Struck Quotes & Sayings

Hello, lover, whispered a sexy feminine voice in his ear as hands wound around him from behind.
Talin smiled, unable to help himself. He looked over his shoulder at Neve. She raised a black brow, her silver eyes searching his.
Desire struck him quickly, making him instantly hard. Neve managed to bring such a reaction from him every time he heard her voice, felt her touch, or looked at her. — Donna Grant

The grandfather clock struck the half hour. She must be away. Glancing from Mama to Mrs. Smith to Mrs. Astor, she did the only polite thing she could do.

She rolled her eyes back in her head, exhaled a loud gasp and swooned out of her chair. — Rachel Hauck

She took a deep breath, "Last chance. Are you in need of rescuing?"
His expression turned very strange, almost as if she'd struck him, "Yes," he said finally. — Holly Black

Falling for him would be like cliff diving. It would be either the most exhilarating thing that ever happened to me or the stupidest mistake I'd ever make. — Colleen Houck

Let me get this straight," I said once I was settled securely on the rock. "I was struck by some kind of magical energy sent from Odin that shot out of the lights in the storeroom at Macy's, hitting me and knocking me into a pile of shoes? And because of that, I'm now immortal? — Amanda Carlson

The pain in my heart was worse than anything I ever imagined. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could feel was the void of her absence growing stronger inside me, and the panic of not ever seeing her eyes open again struck me like an iron whip. — Nely Cab

The beer gave Penn a headache immediately; she blinked like a mermaid struck by sunshine. — Genie Frisbee

That she had somehowtaken the initiative to learn my name should have struck me a then, but it did not. Instead, as she stood on the street with the rain coming down and mascara running onto her cheeks, all I could think was tah I'd never seen anyone more beautiful. — Nicholas Sparks

Payne sought clarification. "Vertical or horizontal?"
"Horizontal, of course."
"Sorry but I can't help you."
"Will you pipe down for a minute? Naturally she was dead since I work at a cemetery. Her face struck a chord though. So, I rummaged around in the old Rory memory bank, and Emily is what rings a bell. Didn't we go to school with an Emily? Tenth or eleventh grade, if I recall it correctly. — Ed Lynskey

Cupid had struck his heart to the core but had forgotten to put even a mere scratch on his beloved's. — Jettie Necole

You can be intensely aggravating ... " His expression struck me as closer to boredom than aggravation. "And somehow I suspect this isn't the first time you've been told that."
"Nope," I smiled mischievously. "Nor the last ... — M.A. George

She looked up at him with dark, tragic eyes, and again he was struck by the illusion of beauty and innocence she presented. Instinct had him wanting to reach for her, to take her in his arms and offer comfort. Then his ribs twitched with pain and he remembered she was not all that innocent, no matter what her mother believed about her or how she presented herself. He called to mind an image of his sister and her torn remains, and of the monstrosity she had died giving birth to, and any pity he might have felt for Airie fled. — Paula Altenburg

She was the last lightning-struck without a mate, and therefore, human. — Carrie Ann Ryan

Is it okay to kiss you?" he asks.
"What?"
"I won't get struck by lightning? — Cynthia Hand

At that moment a solitary violin struck up. But the music was not dance music; it was more like a song - a solemn, sweet song. (I know now that it was Beethoven's Romance in F.) I listened, and suddenly it was as if the fog that surrounded me had been penetrated, as if I were being spoken to. — Jennifer Paynter

The game jostled back and forth, and then came the final inning. Some player named Casey came to bat, like his teammates, looking like a rock. Lightning ripped through the air as rain came down in sheets. The scoreboard said the horses were beating the rocks by two points, but there were two men on base. If Casey hit a homerun, the rocks would beat the horses. If not, too bad for the rocks.
This man, Ben, and the two people with him looked horrified as this Casey came to bat. They had red shirts with horses painted on them. They jumped up and down for joy when they saw the final pitch, and Casey sulking back to the dugout. He had struck out. After the game, the four hiked back to a very small car. — Molly Maguire McGill

The thought struck me, as I went about my daily ablutions, that Elliot had awfully nice hair for a man who'd take someone else's ticket. It wasn't long, but had a small curl to it that made you think about running your fingers through it. "Not that I have any intention of doing so ," I told my reflection in the steam mirror. "Even if I was looking for a man, and I'm certainly not that stupid, he would be off the table. He's friend to a rat bastard." It was just a shame, too. How many bona fide lords does a girl meet? And how many of them have BBC voices, and nice faces, and curly hair that looks soft and silky and utterly gropeworthy? — Katie MacAlister

Lindsay strode to the door and picked up his overcoat from the back of the couch, where he'd tossed it when they came in. She wheeled around to hand him his coat; once again, as expected, Fred was standing right behind her. But this time he wasn't looking at her. He was looking up.
At the mistletoe, directly over their heads.
He met her eyes with a look that glimmered with promise. Then he took the overcoat from her hand and tossed it, lightly, onto the back of the sofa once again.
Everything seemed to slow. His intentions were clear, and she had plenty of time to step back. Yet Lindsay did nothing to stop him when he took her chin in his hand, tipped it upward, and brought his lips down to hers, as purposefully as if he'd meant to do it all along.
Lindsay could have sworn she heard bells....
Still dazed, she followed his eyes upward. "And what's the penalty for ignoring mistletoe?"
"Struck by lightning, I think. — Sierra Donovan

Suddenly, I'm struck by the magnitude of the moment. Hurtling through the air becomes freeing, not terrifying. This time last year, I was suffocating within the confines of my life. I would've done anything to escape. That my life has come full circle is as exhilarating as it is scary.
Life is for living.
For moments like this. — Siobhan Davis

Crystal-clear revelation struck Zane like a bolt of summer lightning, sizzling through the chill of February air. — Abigail Roux

As for the piano, the faster her fingers flew over it, the more he marveled. She struck the keys with aplomb and ran from one end of the keyboard to the other without a stop. — Gustave Flaubert

The man is always the last to know when
Cupid has struck him
-Anonymous, Memoirs of a Mistress — Sabrina Jeffries

Jenny was struck again by the contrast between his attractiveness and his shyness. It was endearing. — Katie Allen

If you leave me with hickeys like some sort of love-struck teenager, I'll kill you."
"Will you now," he growled. "I think I know how I'd make it up to you."
His fingers slipped between her thighs, which parted automatically at his touch. Her breath rasped in her throat, desire burning through her. — Libby Cole

Apples are kissing other apples. Gray cats are kissing other gray cats. Trees are kissing trees. You and I are not kissing. We work in an office together. We are both married to other people. It is okay because we only have ideas, you and I, about whether we should kiss or not. These ideas are both good and bad, probably.
At work, we do not say these words aloud but make elaborate diagrams for one another. You write these words: Kissing you would be like this, and draw a picture of two butterflies being struck by lightning. I stare at it and wonder if you may be right. I do my own drawing and write, Kissing you would be like this, and sketch a picture of a man made of ice kissing a woman who is actually a stove. We have made hundreds of these drawings. We do not actually do any work. — Joe Meno

You have fought for and claimed your names, and though you may be struck, you will never fall. And that ... " His eyes moisten, fear tingeing his voice, no, it's apprehension. He takes a breath, steels himself. "And that is why I love you."
Seconds pass as his words settle in. I know what he wants to hear, what he aches to hear, what his eyes plead me for. But I can't tell him that because he wants to hear it back. I can't tell him that because it might be what he's pinning his hopes on, a bulwark he'll set against madness. I can't tell him that because Heath could never get a guy like him. I can't tell him that because I don't want him to be alone, or because I don't want to be alone. I can't tell him that because of a million stupid reasons that he would eventually see through, and resent me for. I can't lie to him.
"I love you, Cale."
I tell him because I mean it. — Vaughn R. Demont

If you look at the themes that he struck from the minute he started running for president through today, there is a very high level of consistency, and there is a sense that he is who he is. Obama's governing is completely consistent with the way he campaigned and the themes on which he campaigned, the issues he highlighted, the vision he shared. — David Axelrod

A single boot dangled loosely from his hand, and once in front of Rachel he raised it high above the table top and let go. It struck the beautifully polished oak with a resounding thunk, sending a puff of dust into the filtered air of the boardroom and scattering a residue of dried mud and gravel across the table. "Yours, I believe, Ms. Jennings-Porter," he said, charmingly straight-faced. — Cheryl Cooke Harrington

Lightening struck leaving its effects to course through her veins fusing him into the essence of her life force. — Truth Devour

Love wasn't a happening one decided on
to indulge or not, to partake or not. To feel or not. When it came, when it struck, the only decision left to make was how to respond
whether you embraced it, took it in, and made it a part of you, or whether you turned your back and let it die. — Stephanie Laurens

He closed his eyes. Swiftly like a predator, the vision of his death struck. This time it would not be denied.
The white ground, black rocks, and red drops of his heart's blood growing on the ground like blooming roses. He lost himself in the sensation of liquid warmth flowing between his fingers.
When he could finally see again, he found himself kneeling on the floor, shoulders hunched. That damned scene hung like an albatross around his neck, until he almost wished it would go ahead and happen, just so that he could get it the fuck over with.
He had carried that albatross for almost two hundred damn years - exactly from the moment when he had responded to a damsel in distress and had embroiled himself in another man's curse. — Thea Harrison

The moment I met her she struck me dumb, deaf, and stupid. At only eighteen, she'd had everything - brains, beauty, class. And she'd known it too. In the eight years since, I've watched her toy with one man after another, sometimes for a weekend, sometimes for a couple of months. But the affairs always ended the same. With her handing him his hat and a don't-slam-the-door-on-your-way-out. — Magda Alexander

He hadn't struck her as particularly religious unless she counted the number of times he'd called out to Jesus when he'd been deep inside her. — Amy Andrews

Mackay had a low opinion of all Crusades. The Children's Crusade struck him as only slightly more sordid than the ten Crusades for grown-ups. O'Hare read this handsome passage out loud: History in her solemn page informs us that the crusaders were but ignorant and savage men, that their motives were those of bigotry unmitigated, and that their pathway was one of blood and tears. Romance, on the other hand, dilates upon their piety and heroism, and portrays, in her most glowing and impassioned hues, their virtue and magnanimity, the imperishable honor they acquired for themselves, and the great services they rendered to Christianity. — Kurt Vonnegut

It struck me again the ways Angelo and I were like them. Angelo was my angel, and I was ever on the ground, looking up at him. It was no wonder Jon and I hadn't been able to make things work
we'd both longed for something grander. And it was no wonder Cole and Angelo had been drawn to each other, and yet, they had only brushed wings in the night, neither one of them able to stop in their flight. — Marie Sexton