“Yes, my boy, you are indeed much faster, bigger, and stronger than me and an altogether superior speciman of God's creation, but I have seen your like before. Only one of us can be master, and it won't be you.”

“The slight pull was all it took to completely unbalance his precarious load and dump the manure - all atop her boots. "Bloody hell! Look what ye done!" the boy cried...If ye hadn't come along and pulled me o'er it ne'er would have happened.But now ye'd best clean it up afore Devington or Jeffries comes along." "Me?" she replied incredulously. "I'm not the clumsy oaf who dumped it. It's not my mess to clean." "Well, I ain't about to be the last to finish my chores. Devington will have me turning over the reeking dung pit instead of breaking me fast wi' the other chaps." "That's nothing compared to my boots, you ham-fisted lout!" "Tweren't me what pulled the wheelbarrow arse over tea kettle, ye wantwit! Go bugger yer mother and lick yer boots clean!" "I'll box your ears, you brazen-faced little jackanapes!...”

“from THE DEVIL YOU KNOW :She wanted him too. He could see it in the rapid rise of her breasts. He could smell her budding arousal and would relish bringing her to full bloom. God, how he loved this dance! She had taken the first tentative steps, yet she still fought her desire, refused to give in to it, but he would lead her now. He was a master…and a ruthless bastard.” ― Victoria Vane, The Devil You Knowcoming July 27, 2012 from Breathless Press”

“Son of a beast tried to bite me when I turned my back to the billets!"...Nostrils flaring and ears pinned, the grey repeated the offense. "He wants another go at it. Be a sport ol' man!" Robert chortled. The indignant Scotsman threw the reins in his face, tromping off to collect the major's horse."I wonder was it reward or punishment Winthrop had in mind in allowing you to keep that brute?" Drake innocently inquired."He only eats Scotsman," Robert quipped.”

“Try as you may, you can never defy love.”

“True vice, my lady, would frighten us all, if it did not wear the mask of virtue. (p.56)”

“FROM A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE by Victoria Vane:His gaze glued to the bed, Ned made a mechanical backward retreat to the center of the room where he had a clearer prospect of its crowning glory. His vision rose to the top of the headboard, to the heraldic shield seated betwixt the carved figures of a lion and a unicorn. His gaze slid with dread to the engraved scroll beneath. Dieu Et Mon Driot. God and my right, the motto of the king. His chest seized. The room began to spin. He looked to Phoebe, aware that the blood was draining from his face, and that his voice emerged as a strangled sound. "May the same God save me...for I'm going to be hung, drawn, and quartered for spending last night rutting in the King of England's bed!" coming April 27, 2012 from Breathless Press”