Spellbinder Quotes

“I want you too, so much,” she whispered.
He murmured in her ear, “Then take me.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“With her face tilted up to his, the subtle edge of moonlight touched along the edge of one high cheekbone, the tilted edge of one eye, and those beautiful, enticing lips. Obeying an impulse he couldn’t put into words, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Your music hurts, the way sunshine hurts when you’ve existed for a long time in darkness.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“There was no surviving some loves. No matter what happened to the love affair, whether it flourished or failed, those loves struck mortal blows one carried for the rest of one's life.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“I think it will probably get messy sometimes, and I know we’ll make mistakes. Neither of us has lived a normal life, and even when people have the best of intentions, they still hurt each other. But do you know what that damn puck said to me the other day?”
She nestled against him. “What?”
“He said, ‘What would we have if we didn’t have forgiveness?”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Closing her eyes, she fit the violin under her chin, and set the bow to the strings. Faith had never been as blind as this.
The first thing that came to mind was the sound of her fingers breaking. Her life, as she knew it, dying. The shock and the pain of it, and the utter devastation.
They’ve killed me, she thought.
So she played it.
Next came the memory of warm, strong hands reaching for hers in the darkness. The unknown clasping her fingers, healing her, lending her strength and reassurance. It was the only thing in the world when she had nothing. It had been her lifeline.
And she played it.
Then came trust, the tentative unfurling, when she believed against all evidence that the person who came to her in the darkness would help her in any way he could. The impossibly intense adventure of his arm, sliding around her shoulders. The miracle of warmth when she had known nothing but coldness.
That first kiss, oh, the surprise of it! The agonizing uncertainty… was it all right to allow this? How could it feel so incredibly good?
Could she possibly kiss him again?
Oh, when could she kiss him again?
The burning that took hold, the incandescent light that shone despite all the shadows stacked around them. The unbearable, delicious hunger that was the sweetest pain… that she would give anything, anything, if only she could feel it again…
Always before, when she had played, she’d had the awareness of the violin and the bow as instruments in her craft. Her music had been self-conscious, aware.
Now, as she played, she went somewhere she had never gone before. She lost awareness of the violin altogether.
She became the music.
She was the story, the vibration.
She became the story of love, the notes written in kisses and caresses on her skin. She felt the symphony, the swelling highs in the lifts, and the terrible lows in the falls, and hope was the cruelest note of all, the devastation that came afterward, utterly intolerable.
She poured it all out, all the emotion, the experience, the exquisite delight along with the terror. There was no hiding any of it from a god anyway. The only other being she had been so naked with was Morgan, and he was gone.
Gone, while the love she felt for him had become the very breath of life to her.
Give him back to me, she begged with her music.
Give him back.
When the last note speared through the air, she had nothing left to give.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Bravery wasn't facing something you knew you could vanquish, he thought. Bravery was facing the impossible and saying, what's next?”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Just when I was coping with the idea that I’d necked with a werewolf,” she muttered. “Just when I was beginning to flirt with the idea of possibly… possibly inviting sex with a werewolf. I’m trying to imagine how I would tell this story to my best friend. I think it would go something like this: See, I’ve never seen him in daylight. He’s just this werewolf guy.”
Beside her, he had stiffened. Very quietly, he said, “Sex?”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Her music ran through him with electric energy, more joyous than anything he could remember and more painful than silver.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Forgiveness was hardest to give to oneself. Even when he knew the geas had compelled him to do things, he still remembered doing them. But nobody could walk that road of forgiveness for him. He would have to find his way by himself.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“On the cracked floor beside her lay an open violin case. The ebony violin she had played for Death rested inside, along with the bow. The golden strings gleamed in the torchlight. Of all the instruments that were famous works of art, this one was the most exquisite she had ever seen. And of all the instruments in the world, there would never be a more expensive one she could acquire. She had paid for it with an endless lifetime of service.
Carefully, as she closed the lid and latched it, she thought, I was broken, and broken again, until I became someone else.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“I can’t get enough of you,” he said against her neck. “When I walk away from you I feel like I’ve cut myself off from breathing.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Lifting his head, he whispered against her wet, throbbing lips, “Too much?”
Wasn’t that sweet,
Consider even.
But oh, hell no.
She gasped, “Not enough.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Giving her a slow, coaxing smile that turned the heat in the room up by a thousand degrees, he stroked her lips with the balls of his thumbs as he murmured, “Can we get back to talking about possibly inviting that werewolf for sex?”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“He cupped her head with both hands. “You’re full of your own kind of magic, and it’s much more rare and beautiful than all the other spells around you. They are commonplace. You are unique.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder