Best 97 quotes of Kelly Moran on MyQuotes

A city full of eight million people. It was all rather lonely sometimes.

An hour in her presence, and he was ready to hit his knees, submit to her every whim.

As it was, she never wanted to leave her bed because it meant seeing him when she fell asleep.

At least that left hope for him. Except "Beauty and the Geek" wasn’t exactly the proper translation of the popular fairy tale.

Beauty like hers had no place in his life.

Before she knew it, she was just another set of eyes in a dusty attic, waiting for the stairs to creak.

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was going out with a rifle in his hand.

Calm down. Ghosts don’t ring the doorbell.

Common sense got drunk and giddy when Olivia was on the premises. Maybe he should just raise a glass, too, and dub reason a lost cause.

Considering I'm a writer, you leave me strangely bereft of words.

Considering she’d conjured him, she supposed he should be drool-worthy. After all, he was the closest thing to a long term relationship she’d ever had, despite him totally being a figment.

Considering she’d just blown his gray matter into the ether, he was screwed.

Damn, her mouth was a weapon.

Delicately, she parted her lips, swept them against his, and kissed first his top, then the bottom. Letting her lead, he pinched his brows together and held still. She didn’t come at him with fire. She told him a story. And he’d be damned if it didn’t start with once upon a time like she were proving he was some kind of hero. Specifically, hers.

First thought? Romance movies were bad for her psyche.

For a guy who wore layers upon layers of armor, his give-a-shit was showing.

Go get dirty, baby girl. And I mean the naked kind.

Hazard of the job. That's Ode de Anal Gland you smell.

He bit back a weary sigh and tried to remember strangling her would solve squat.

He could be doing quantum physics in his head or undressing her in his mind—she’d never know the difference.

He couldn’t grab reality if he attempted the task with both hands.

He could’ve penned a rendition of Moby Dick in Pig Latin and he wouldn’t have been the wiser.

He'd bet his right nut her skin would taste as good as it smelled.

He didn’t know what was hotter, her Star Wars reference or the breathiness with which she spoke it.

He’d misspoken. She wasn’t a blow. She was a hydrogen bomb directly aimed at his solar plexus.

He'd never need a camera to remember this, and damn if he ever wanted anyone but him to see her like she was at this moment.

He looks at you like you’re crème brûlée.

He looked longingly out the window at the towering skyline of New York City and thought about jumping. It would hurt less than following orders.

He needed a stiff drink. With a side of straightjacket.

Her sudden grin depleted some of his brain cells. She was evil like that.

He slid the photo out and raised it. The sun washed out any distinguishable characteristics. All except her eyes. He didn’t need a picture to remember those. As turquoise as the waters near Cozumel, and just as warm.

He was a drool-worthy, panty-drenching, yummy work of masculine art.

He was going to need God Almighty to come down from On High to explain this one.

He wasn't touching that one with an eight-inch…pole.

He would’ve sworn the woman was a reincarnation of Holly Golightly, but this wasn’t a Capote novel, no matter her resemblance to Hepburn.

His sexy smile said trust me or don’t, he didn’t care.

How southern belle of her.

Hunter versus prey, and the look in his eyes told her, in no uncertain terms, eating her alive was a distinct possibility.

I can take two people, throw a world of obstacles at them, defy the odds, and still give them a happily-ever-after. Together. I am a romance author. What's your superpower?

I'd have your back off-site too, if you'd let me." ~Cain, Ghost of You

I don’t just want you to come. I want you to come undone

I’d tell you not to swoon, but he’d catch you, so never mind.

If this was what caring about someone was like, what the hell was he supposed to do? Because he couldn’t handle it, couldn’t live like this.

If you’re trying to tell me you’re not used to mattering to someone, I might just bleed out right here on the floor.

I give you my love & my luck. Don't throw either away.

I have something I need to get off my chest.” “What’s that?” “This.” He closed his mouth over hers.

I'll never get to hear her say, 'I love you, Mommy,' like other parents take for granted.

I loved you as a boy and fell in love with you as a man. You’re in here so deep that there is no you, no me. Only us.

I'm apologizing. For whatever I did. For whatever the guy who hurt you did. For the JFK assassination or the botched moon landing. Take your pick." ~Cain, Ghost of You

I’m not crazy.” “Said every loony that ever lived.