Try an author, a thought, or a phrase in “quotes”.↑ ↓ Navigate · Esc Close

0 words found

Explore all results ↗

Suzanne Brockmann

Born 1960 AD; death year unknown

Name supplied in the contributor-provided quotation collection. Basic attribution label; identity, lifetime and quotation authenticity have not been independently verified.

▷ Play this voiceSearch these words ↗Place in time ↗loveknowledgetimefaithlifetruthworkfriendship

Quotations and sayings

12c. 1960 AD
I believe strongly that my books are entertainment. I hope you might learn a thing or two while reading them, but first and foremost, my job is to entertain you. If I’m waving a flag in Hot Target, it’s the same flag I’ve always waved in all my books—the American flag. And that’s a flag that’s supposed to stand for acceptance and understanding. For freedom for all—and not just freedom for all Americans, but freedom for all of the diverse and wonderful people living on this planet; freedom to live their lives according to their definitions of freedom. It’s a flag that’s supposed to stand for real American values like honor and honesty and peace and love and hope.
↗
14c. 1960 AD
As Ian popped the lock and opened the car door, he turned to Phoebe. “Can you do me a favour?”She immediately stepped toward him, fully embracing their new mature relationship. “Of course.”Ian looked pointedly over his own shoulder and said, “Tell me the truth. Does this car make my glowing ass look fat?”She’d naturally followed the direction of his gaze, but now she looked up, hard, into his eyes. And she smiled back at him despite herself. She even laughed. “You’re an idiot.”“When things get too serious, I get a rash.”She pointedly looked back down at his nether regions, despite the fact doing so made her blush. Still, she spoke coolly, dryly. “Not on your ass.”If Ian believed in love, that would’ve been it for him. Instantly. Enthrallingly. Eternally. Instead, he just laughed. “Thank God for that. See if there’s anything remotely clothinglike in the backseat or the trunk.
↗
15c. 1960 AD
Then it’s a deal, we’re friends.”[…]“Can we just make one conditional rule here? That if we get into a situation where we know—absolutely—that we’re going to die, we can have—“She pulled her hand away. “Don’t say it!”He did. “Sex.”She glared her disbelief. “You are such and asshole!”“I am,” Ian agreed. I’m afraid that accepting me for who I am comes with the territory when talking friendship.”“Stay in the shadows, asshole,” she said, then turned to stalk up the lawn toward the deck.“Thank you,” he said as he headed for the shrubs. “I appreciate our open-minded acceptance of my asshole-ishness.”And he wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sword that he heard Phoebe laugh.
↗
16c. 1960 AD
I’m not the one who kissed you in the bathroom. In case you’re thinking I forgot about that, or somehow missed it, or …”“Kind of hard to miss,” Ian agreed. “Your lips, mine. A distinct smacking sound. Yup, that was me kissing you. Still, it was short—quickly over and done. A kiss good-bye. The subtext was I hope we don’t die, but if we do, it was nice meeting you. Not at all like that under-the-dock kiss.” He paused. “The one where you jumped me. The first time. So far.” He narrowed his eyes at her, much the way she’d done to him. “Naturally I’m suspicious. Did you intentionally leave my clothes behind?
↗
17c. 1960 AD
As Ian looked at her, he felt something in his chest slip and shift. The pressure came with a blood-tingling rush of triumph and satisfaction, pride and a deeply burning sense of possessiveness. His inner caveman warrior had been awakened and wanted to rush around the room, peeing into the corners, marking it—and her—as his own, while shouting Mine! and randomly smashing things for emphasis.But he knew that was he was feeling was the equivalent of emotional and hormonal indigestion. He hadn’t done this in a long time. And he particularly hadn’t done it with a woman he liked as much as this one. In fact, he’d never had sex with anyone that he genuinely liked as much as he liked Phoebe.
↗
20c. 1960 AD
We shouldn’t do this,” he said again as he looked up into her eyes. “But, God, I want to. I just …” He closed his eyes, exhaled hard. “Pheeb. I’m a bad bet. There’s no future here. I know this feels big, this thing between us, right now it feels huge—and shh, don’t make a dick joke, I’m serious. But it’s not going to feel as big or special tomorrow, or, shit, even later tonight. I mean, yeah, I can make you feel good. I know it. And God knows you can make me … Jesus, you’re so beautiful, I just —”She stopped him there, again, with a kiss, and just like that, it was as if something snapped.
↗
22c. 1960 AD
This is what we, in the con business, call making a spectacle of ourselves. Let’s try to avoid that from now on.”“Except […] Mr. No-Sex-in-the-Bathrooms is going to describe two probably drunk people who staggered in. Plus, he thinks I’m a prostitute. We can double down on that by …” She stopped him, glancing back into the store throught the big plate-glass windows. Ian looked, too, and sure enough, the clerk was still watching them warily.“Perfect, she said, and the made what was, absolutely, the international two-handed gesture for sexual intercourse. She then added a couple of exaggerated hip thrusts, saying, “I want to make this absolutely clear, because this guy’s kind of an idiot.” She then rubbed her fingers together, after which she held out her hand, palm up, as if to say Pay me.Ian cracked up. “That’s actually kind of scary. Sex with a mime. Do I have to pay extra to make sure you don’t do the trapped-in-a-box thing while we’re doing it?
↗
24c. 1960 AD
But one look at Wildcard's face, and he knew there was trouble. Problem? he signaled.Wildcard responded with an obscene gesture that more than conveyed his opinion that not only was this a problem, but it was a big problem...."Okay". That was not anywhere near the complete reaming Muldoon imagined "We'll take a different route down.""We could", Wildcard agreed. "But they've got a prisoner.."Oh man, that hurt. Dream op to nightmare...Muldoon gritted his teeth and considered his options."Holy fuck", Wildcard said. "When I tell you that a stupid ass French photog is going to turn this perfect op into a total clusterfuck, what you say sir, is 'Oh, holy fuck'. If this isn't the time to use your full adult vocabulary, Lieutenant, I honestly don't know what is".
↗