When a man writes a romance, the woman dies. When a woman writes one, it ends all tidy and sweet.
Julia QuinnHe felt a bit like Romeo to her Juliet, minus the feuding families and poison.
And with pigeons.
What?"
"You're so neat," she said, looking almost embarrassed.
He glanced pointedly over his shoulder. "There are four hundred on the other side of this door."
"But you're ruining me."
"I can't do it neatly?
Forget Romeo and Juliet. This was much closer to The Taming of the Shrew.
Julia QuinnHe gave her his best smile. His
best I-almost-died-so-how-can-you-deny-me smile. Or at least
that’s how he hoped it appeared. The truth was, he wasn’t a very
accomplished flirt, and it might very well have come across as an Iam-
mildly-deranged-so-it’s-in-all-of-our-best-interests-if-youpretend-
to-agree-with-me smile.
A misunderstanding?" Elizabeth echoed. "With an anvil?"
"Oh, stop," Harriet admonished her. "I think he looks very dashing."
"As if he dashed into an anvil.
It was juvenile, he knew, this need to assign blame, but everyone had a right to childish emotions from time to time, didn't they?
Julia QuinnMots clés life romance truthful love-story
the unexpected moment [is] always sweeter.
Julia QuinnMots clés romance quote true beautiful the-viscount-who-loved-me love-story
Honoria sighed. “We can’t do what we did last year.”
“I don’t see why not,” Sarah said. “I can’t imagine anyone
would recognize it from our interpretation
I believe I may kill you before the season is out,” Sarah
remarked in much the same tone she used when saying, I believe I
shall have lemonade instead of tea.
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