Melanie Jones thought she was imagining things. Surely there's not a breathtaking man astride a magnificent black horse racing her sports car on a country road. And he has the nerve to wink at her, just before he vanishes into the night! When he appears to her in solid, sinewy muscle, Melanie... read more
“Panicking, she glanced at him again and realized he was looking right back at her. His eyes through the slits in the mask were brilliant, warm, dangerous, and he grinned as if he were enjoying himself. Melanie found that her own heart was racing, but whether from sheer terror or a strange and unfamiliar excitement she didn’t know. Whatever it was, she felt incredibly alive.”Melanie Jones
“Nathaniel sighed. He didn’t really have a choice. He needed her, and somehow he had to persuade her that she needed him. Well, persuading women was one of his most developed talents.”
“She had known as soon as she saw the portrait that this man could break hearts, that he was exactly the type she should avoid. She just hadn’t realized he’d ever be a problem for her, being dead and all…”Melanie Jones
“Go on, say what you have to say. Clear the air. I promise not to interrupt.” “You’re dead. You died in 1814. You can’t be here. It’s impossible. It’s not logical.”Nathaniel Raven and Melanie Jones
“What a pair you make, you as smooth as crème brûlée and she as prickly as a thistle.” “Hmm, a French dessert and a Scottish weed. You see, we’re completely incompatible.”The Fiosaiche and Nathaniel Raven
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