Anthony looked down at his evil clutches hands, he reminded himself, hands and grinned anew.

You have a mother?" He quirked a brow. "Did you think mine was some sort of divine birth? My father was a remarkable man, but even he was not that talented.

Caroline, do you value your neck?" "Yes, I'm rather fond of it. Why?" "Because if you don't shut up, I'm going to wring it.

To call that writing, madam, is an insult to quills and ink across the world.

She had been born for this man, and she had spent so many years trying to accept the fact that he had been born for someone else.

He sucked his lips in an attempt not to laugh. "Aren't you Spanish?" She raised one arm in a salute. "Viva la Queen Isabella!" "I see. Then why are you speaking with a French accent?

Love works in mysterious ways.

Never," he spat out, "kick a man who is pointing a gun at you.

A lot could happen in a week. Just look at the last one.

He was a puzzle. And Hyacinth hated puzzles. Well, no, in truth she loved them. Provided, of course, that she solved them.

You always get more respect when you don't have a happy ending.

Everyone has secrets. Especially me.

If he was planning to attack and ravish, he gave no indication of being in a hurry to do so.

Elizabeth, you resemble nothing so much as a hen trying to hatch a book.

When the dead body said, "Good evening," Annabel had to face the grim conclusion that it wasn't as dead as she'd hoped.

There was a huge difference between dislike and disregard.

A duel, a duel, a duel. Is there anything more exciting, more romantic ... or more utterly moronic?

I can't imagine a romance novel published today where the hero rapes the heroine and she falls in love with him.

No one knows as well as I how much nonsense is printed in books.