“Hey, Mr. Captain!” she puffed, weaving through the crowd. “You training for the Reindeer Games or something? Some of us have short legs, you know! Or do you just like dashing through the airport like you’re a one-horse open sleigh?”

~Captain Kol Vinter, Christmas Cancellation

In his eyes there had been genuine compassion. Those kinds of eyes didn’t belong to liars or cowards. They were the kind of eyes someone could hold on to in their darkest moments. That kind of human decency was foreign to me, a quality I’d never witnessed in the cold, calculated men who had shaped my life—the Bratva, the Kremlin. It made him compelling and dangerous because it drew me to him.

He was an American, a man risking his life to help in a war that wasn’t his and believing he’d be safe. And that trust in the better angels of our nature was my undoing. And now, for reasons I couldn’t fully explain, I was willing to risk everything to help him. If I hadn’t felt compelled to act before, the decision was now clear. Letting him die here wasn’t just a part of the mission I’d chosen—it was unthinkable. My fate was sealed.

~Daria Melnichenko, Mission Shift

She bit her bottom lip. Nervous tic or calculated move, I couldn’t tell, but it drew my eyes down to that goddamn mouth of hers. Soft. Full. Screaming to be ruined.

“You’re full of yourself,” she snapped, clearly catching my stare. “But let me guess. You think girls like me should be seen and not heard, right?”

“No,” I said coolly. “I think girls like you should be f***ed face down until that pretty mouth learns when to stay busy and when to stay silent—until obedience stops being a choice.”

~Nikolai Volkov, Eyes on You

In the room’s silence, with only the soft hum of medical equipment for company, I poured out my heart to her unconscious form, clinging to the fragile thread of hope that she would somehow hear me, feel my love, and find her way back.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

She can hiss and spit all she wants, but I’m taking possession of her future one way or another. Feral just means special handling.

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto fractured, and those eyes of the unholy turned murderous, setting my blood on fire with equal parts fear and hunger.

~Scarlett Hayes, Eyes of the Unholy

“Samantha, you’re okay. I promise. The orgasmic cocktail of oxytocin, endorphins, dopamine, and serotonin is just messing with your emotions.” He kissed my shoulder. With a soft chuckle, and added, “I knew you just needed the right man to please you. God, you’re so fucking amazing.”

~Samantha Sheridan, Night Shift

In my experience, the saucier a woman’s bravado, the more obedient she became upon surrender. I bet she’d love being praised as a good girl, knowing that she was adored—the object of my strongest desire.

~Dr. Atticus Thorin, Night Shift

“I love you, my little bird. With everything in me. I love every part of you—your red hair, your sharp tongue, the strength you hide behind that fire. There will never be another woman for me. I’ll die with your name on my lips.”

~Lucian Byrne, Eyes of the Unholy

There was something profound about returning to your roots, like a tree reaching deep into the earth, drawing strength from the past to grow tall and strong. It could be the best thing for me—a chance to rebuild. This was a place where I didn’t have to be perfect, where people remembered the girl I’d been before life tore me apart. It could be a chance to start over—not somewhere new, but where it all began.

~Noelle Nichols, Christmas Cancellation