Best 77 quotes of Michelle M. Pillow on MyQuotes

Advice from a Romance Writer: Guys, make your woman feel pretty even on an 'off' day. Trust me, good things will come of it.

A lie, when believed, became the truth.

A maiden? Out here? And scented with festering carcasses?” Vladamir searched the forest that surrounded his castle. The hum of insects was quite clear on the morning air, and he noticed that the red bristled pigs grazing just beyond his walls were undisturbed. Nor could he detect movement within the barren limbs of the trees. Finally satisfied that the girl was alone, he turned his attention back to Ulric. He refused to show any interest in the maiden. “Wake her and send her on her way.” He kept his voice passionless and made no effort to help the woman. “If she is dead, burn her, for I won’t tolerate that wretched smell in my bailey.” “Should we not try to find out who she is first? Mayhap there are those who search fer her even now. Would you deny her kinsmen a proper burial?” Ulric protested quietly. “Do as I command!” Vladamir insisted in a low growl. Even as he did so, he saw the knights that manned the wall look over the girl with curious stares. He heard their whispering as it drifted down, though he couldn’t make out their hasty words. He didn’t need to. The woman was more than likely a Saxon wench and they would wish to know whom, for none in the manor were missing. If she was dead, there was nothing he could do for her. He didn’t need this headache. His life was stressed enough.

Am I on your walk of shame? You did sleep with the right MacGregor, didn’t you?

Angus skidded to a stop and lifted his jaw as if sensing he was being watched. He looked in her direction and instantly covered his manhood as his eyes caught Jane's shocked face in the tree limbs. "Oh, lassie." "Oh, naked man," Jane teased before she could stop herself.

Any woman would have to be dead not to be attracted to the walking mass of sexy that was Erik MacGregor.

Apparently, the princes had found the only four women in the universes who didn’t dream of being royal, rich and adored by their husbands.

As an author I'm in my head all day and I worry that I lose touch with reality. But then my dog pees on my shoe and I know I've found it again.

A stóirín, ya are a handful of trouble, but I kind of like it.

Chocolate is medicinal. I just did another study that confirms it.

Confession: I don't want to be one of my characters. I'm mean to them sometimes. Really mean.

Damn, I would give anything to see that man naked," Charlotte whispered. "How could you only say he was 'all right'?

Does talking to yourself in the voice of your fictional character count as being social?

Do not pay attention to my cousins. Every family needs a couple idiots and we keep them around for entertainment.

Emotions like these didn't happen to regular, everyday people. They couldn't or else the entire world would be fornicating all the time.

For some reason, when people meet me and find out I'm a writer they always ask if I write children's books. Um... please don't let your kids read my books. Well, unless your kids are in their 30s or something...then yeah, they're old enough. LOL

For ya, love, I will be anything ya want... even a potato.

For your next act, please don't pull any rabbits out of my... well, hat." .... He licked playfully at her mouth. "And ya can't call my manhood 'rabbit'. At least give it a manly name I can brag about.

For your next act, please don't pull any rabbits out of my... well, hat." .... He licked playfully at her mouth. "And ya can't call my manhood 'rabbit'.

He had seen so much of life, but even more of death. He had seen countless eras come and go and still he braved forward, forever alone. And here she was ready to give up after a few lousy years. She was a coward.

He kissed the corner of her lips before whispering by her ear, “And that was just my hand, love.

He knew for certain that she belonged forever in his arms, just as he knew she didn’t realize it yet.

Her eyes widened, convinced by the size of it that his shaft was fully erect. She blinked several times. No, she was wrong. The bulge moved, growing as she watched it. "Not that I mind ya staring, love, but I've got an appointment I must keep.

He’s like a half-baked cookie. - Aunt Polly

He’s not wearing…” Charlotte began. “I know. He doesn’t,” Lydia answered.

He took her hand from her head and held it in his. "Your beauty could make a rose blush." "Are you... drunk?

Iain MacGregor,” she whispered longingly, looking up. The woods were quiet. Strips of moonlight shone through tree limbs that reached like surreal black fingertips across her vision. A single tear slid down her cheek. She touched her mouth, imagining his kiss. Taking a small pocket knife out of her cargo pants, she looked about. A mystic had once told her that if she left pieces of herself around while she lived, it would expand her haunting territory when she died. Jane wasn’t sure she believed in sideshow magic tricks—or the Old Magick as the mystic had spelled it on her sign. She had no idea what had possessed her to talk to the palm reader and ask about ghosts. Still, just in case, she was leaving her stamp all over the woods. She cut her palm and pressed it to a nearby tree under a branch. Holding the wound to the rough bark stung at first, but then it made her feel better. This forest wouldn’t be a bad eternity. The sound of running feet erupted behind her and she stiffened. No one ever came out here at night. She’d walked the woods hundreds of times. Her mind instantly went to the creepy girl ghosts chanting by the stream. “Whoohoo!” Jane whipped around, startled as a streak of naked flesh sprinted past her. The Scottish voice was met with loud cheers from those who followed him. “Water’s this way, lads, or my name isn’t Raibeart MacGregor, King of the Highlands!” Another naked man dashed through the forest after him. “It smells of freedom.” Jane stayed hidden in the branches, undetected, with her hand pressed to the bark. “Aye, freedom from your proper Cait,” Raibeart answered, his voice coming through the dark where he’d disappeared into the trees. “Murdoch, stop him before he reaches town. Cait will not teleport ya out of jail again,” a third man yelled, not running quite so fast. “Raibeart, ya are goin’ the wrong way!” “Och, Angus, my Cait canna live without me,” Murdoch, the second streaker, answered. “She’ll always come to my rescue.” “I said stop him, Murdoch, we’re new to this place.” Angus skidded to a stop and lifted his jaw, as if sensing he was being watched. He looked in her direction and instantly covered his manhood as his eyes caught Jane’s shocked face in the tree limbs. “Oh, lassie.” “Oh, naked man,” Jane teased before she could stop herself. “That I am,” Angus answered, “but there is an explanation for it.” “I don’t think some things need explained,” Jane said.

I confess... if I typo a Facebook post I will edit it. I know it's only Facebook but it's an editing sickness.

I don't want a man to validate me or take care of me. If I have a man in my life, I want him to enhance me.

I don't want to move out of bed." "I don't want to move out of bed either. Let's live here.

If I propose to myself and myself says yes, I get to have the cake, right? I love me, so I’m thinking 12 tiers.

If I want to dress up like Princess Leia and lightsaber fight the clone army in my living room, well the Han Solo in my life is just going to have to accept it.

If Scotsmen don't wear anything under their kilts and they ride a horse, do you think they chafe their manbits?

If the weight comes from bacon you can so deduct it off the scale total to get your true weight. #science

I heart my job. I get to make things up for a living.

I look at life as an adventure. Each new chapter brings new opportunities.

I love my career. It is a career. A difficult one that takes many hours and total dedication to my craft. It is also what I was born to do--tell stories and entertain.

I'm like a stray cat. If you feed me, I don't leave.

Indie publishing lets me feed my inner control freak.

Is he all right?" Jane asked. "Oh, sure, probably losing a fight against a squirrel," Angus said. "Or his shadow...

I think people need hope when times are tough. I think they also need escape and adventure and fantasy. Books are like cheap mini vacations.

I told you, either use it or don’t, but you can’t just dibble-dabble with the bibble-babble.” – Aunt Polly

It's a five pots of liquid sleep kind of morning.

I wish life were a fiction novel. Then everyone would have to do what I say.

Lydia had been fantasizing about him to the point she nearly drove him insane with it. It had taken four days for his energy to weaken inside her enough that he could go and visit her without fear she would throw him across the town in a gust of wind, and thus cause a scene. Although, getting run out of town after one day would be a new MacGregor record.

Ly-di-ah! I sit beneath your window, laaaass, singing ’cause I loooove your a—” “For the love of St. Francis of Assisi, someone call a vet. There is an injured animal screaming in pain outside,” Charlotte interrupted the flow of music in ill-humor.

My cat mocks me frequently. It's the universe's way of keeping me from getting too big of an ego.

My energies have been drained. Masturbating too much will do that.

My name is Kyran. You look like an honorable woman,” he whispered, practicing what he would say to any prospective mate. “I have a home with my parents and my brother. There we will live and you will be part of our family. Would you like to give me many children?

Of course ya love me. I'm very loveable.