Elizabeth

“In the context of the English language, there were many more important words than “in.” There were fancy words, historic words, words that meant life or death. There were multi-syllabic tongue-twisters that required a sort out before speaking, and mission-critical pivotals that started wars or ended wars…and even poetic nonsensicals that were like a symphony as they left the lips. Generally speaking, “in” did not play with the big boys. In fact, it barely had much of a definition at all, and, in the course of its working life, was usually nothing but a bridge, a conduit for the heavy lifters in any given sentence. There was, however, one context in which that humble little two-letter, one-syllable jobbie was a BFD. Love. The difference between someone “loving” somebody versus being “in love” was a curb to the Grand Canyon. The head of a pin to the entire Midwest. An exhale to a hurricane.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover at Last

“Blay’s head whipped around to his mate. “Really? You asked my dad?” Qhuinn nodded, then started to smile like a mother fucker. “It’s my one and only shot. So I wanted to follow protocol.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover at Last

“As Luchas looked over, those perfectly matched eyes met Qhuinn’s fucked-up ones, and the connection was there: They had both been through hell, and that lock step was more powerful than the common DNA they shared.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover at Last

“Otherwise, three little words would have leaked from his mouth. And undoubtedly doomed him in ways he couldn’t even guess at.
Bad time. Bad place.
For that kind of thing.
Forever.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover at Last