The minute I'm in a little pain ... your rough, tough, scary bad boy image totally falls apart.

— Christine Feehan

The real question is, can you love the real me? Not the perfect person you want me to be, not that image you had of me, but who I really am.

— Christine Feehan

The secret weapon is cucumber.' Solange sat all the way up. 'Jasmine, cover your ears.' MaryAnn, Juliette and Jasmine burst out laughing.' Sheesh, Orange. Get your mind out of the gutter.''MY mind is just fine, thank you. It's Maryann's I'm concerned about.'' You put them on your eyes,' Maryann said, laughing even harder.

— Christine Feehan

The storm is passing over us. Do you want to go to the bayou this night?” he asked softly, separating her hair deftly and beginning to weave it into a thick braid. She loved the feel of his hands in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp, tugging so gently on the thick length of braid. She reached up to place a palm over her bare shoulder, the exact spot where his lips had touched her. “I would love to go to the bayou with you.” He smiled at her, his silver eyes molten mercury. “We can observe wildlife for a change. No vampires.” “No weird society types,” she added. “No mortals in need of rescuing,” Gregory said with intense satisfaction. “Get dressed.” “You’re always taking my clothes off, then telling me to get dressed again,” Savannah complained with her infuriating smile, that little sexy one that drove him mad. He turned her around to face him, caught the front of her shirt, and drew the gaping edges together to cover her tempting body. “You cannot expect me to dress you myself, do you?” he asked, leaning down to brush her lips with his. She actually felt her heart jump in response. Or maybe it was his heart. It was nearly impossible to tell the difference anymore.

— Christine Feehan

The trouble is not really in being alone, it's being lonely. One can be lonely in the midst of a crowd, don't you think?

— Christine Feehan

They called each other family and that’s what they were—sisters. Many people in the world had family of the heart, kin by choice rather than by blood, and hers had come along in her darkest hour and saved her life.

— Christine Feehan

Try to look less conspicuous,” he instructed. A dog barked, rushed to the end of its lead, and bared its teeth. Gregory turned his head and hissed, exposing white fangs. The dog stopped its aggression instantly, yelped in alarm, and retreated whining. “What are you doing?” Savannah demanded, outraged. “Getting a feel for the place,” he said absently, his mind clearly on other matters, his senses tuned to the world around him. “Everyone is crazy here, Savannah. You are going to fit right in.” He ruffled her hair affectionately.

— Christine Feehan

Very gently Jacques lowered her feet to the ground, retaining possession of her waist to help her trembling legs hold her up. Shea raised a hand to push back her rain-slick hair. He caught her fingers and raised her palm to his mouth. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” She smiled, shook her head at him. “You’re crazy, you know that? This is one of the most magnificent lightning storms I’ve ever seen, and I didn’t even notice until now.” He grinned at her suggestively, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Says something.” “Exactly,” she agreed. “You’re crazy, and I must be, too.

— Christine Feehan

We can do anything you like. Just be with me.

— Christine Feehan

We could get kinky and see how bats and rats make love, he suggested in a whisper, warm breath against her neck. You are a sick man, Jacques. Very, very sick.

— Christine Feehan