“A Bible-quoting erotica writer--you are quite the oxymoron.”

“I know people think erotica is just a romance novel with rougher sex. It's not. If it's a subgenre of anything, it's horror.Horror? Really?Romance is sex plus love. Erotica is sex plus fear.”

“Romance is sex plus love. Erotica is sex plus fear.”

“Was there any woman in the world quite like Nora? He was so glad she existed; even more glad there was only one of her.”

“Once upon a time,” Nora said, as she fluttered a series of kisses over his shoulders that sent every nerve in his body reeling, “a very poor girl from a fucked-up family became a famous writer with a wicked pen and an even more wicked tongue who made seven figures a year. And she went everywhere she wanted to and did everything she wanted to. And nobody ever tried to stop her. And she had her own pet Angel who needed to learn how to talk. So guess what she did?” “What?” Michael asked. He laughed in surprise as Nora slammed him down onto his back and slid on top of him. She brought her mouth onto his and forced his lips apart. “She gave him her tongue.”

“You don't love him. You only love that he loves you.”

“You have no idea who he is, Suzanne. If you judge him by his actions, you will never know him.”