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“But I didn't know about the other story."
"What other story?��
"About how you and Adrian Ivashkov are��"
"No, whatever you heard it’s not true."
"But it was really romantic"
"Then it’s definitely not true.”
― Richelle Mead, Shadow Kiss

“All eyes flew to the entrance.
A great gray stallion reared up in the doorway, its breath frosting the air with puffs of steam. It was a scene from every fairy-tale romance she'd ever read: the handsome prince bursting into the castle astride a magnificent stallion, ablaze with desire and honor as he'd declared his undying love before all and sundry. Her heart swelled with joy.
Then her brow puckered as she scrutinized her "prince." Well, it was almost like a fairy tale. Except this prince was dressed in nothing but a drenched and muddy tartan with blood on his face and hands and war braids plaited at his temples. Although determination glittered in his gaze, a declaration of undying love didn't appear to be his first priority.
"Jillian!" he roared.
Her knees buckled. His voice brought her violently to life. Everything in the room receded and there was only Grimm, blue eyes blazing, his massive frame filling the doorway. He was majestic, towering, and ruthless. Here was her fierce warrior ready to battle the world to gain her love.
He urged Occam into the crowd, making his way toward the altar.
"Grimm," she whispered.”
― Karen Marie Moning, To Tame a Highland Warrior

“Although Jillian had known what Grimm was before that moment, she was briefly immobilized by the sight of him. It was one thing to know that the man she loved was a Berserker-it was another thing entirely to behold it. He regarded her with such an inhuman expression that if she hadn't peered deep into his eyes, she might have seen nothing of Grimm at all. But there, deep in the flickering blue flames, she glimpsed such love that it rocked her soul. She smiled up at him through her tears.
A wounded sound of disbelief escaped him.
Jillian gave him the most dazzling smile she could muster and placed her fist to her heart. "And the daughter wed the lion king," she said clearly.
An expression of incredulity crossed the warrior's face. His blue eyes widened and he stared at her in stunned silence.
"I love you, Gavrael McIllioch."
When he smiled, his face blazed with love. He tossed his head back and shouted his joy to the sky.”
― Karen Marie Moning, To Tame a Highland Warrior

“As she entered the room, she halted abruptly. "Oh, my," she murmured. Somehow she'd managed to forget there were three men in her home, so
consumed had she been with thoughts of Grimm. They gathered near the fire, while several maids cleared dozens
of platters and dishes from the massive table centered in the Greathall. Yesterday, safe behind the balustrade, Jillian had been struck by how tall and broad the three of them were. Today, standing only a few feet from them, she felt like a dwarf willow in a forest of mighty oaks. Each man stood at least a foot taller than she did. It was downright intimidating to a woman who was not easily intimidated.”
― Karen Marie Moning, To Tame a Highland Warrior

“Suddenly so many things she'd overheard her brothers and Quinn saying when Grimm had been in residence made sense, and upon reflection she suspected a part of her had always known.
Her love was a legendary warrior who had grown to despise himself, cut off from his roots. But now that he was home and given the time to explore those roots, he might be able to make peace with himself at long last.”
― Karen Marie Moning, To Tame a Highland Warrior

“My eyes searched his. 'Did you... did you miss me this whole time?'
I drew in a shallow breath. 'I missed you.'
Brock's gaze held mine. 'Missed you every fucking day, Jillian, with every ounce of who I am.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Fire in You

“Far be it from me to slow down two badass supermodels on a mission, but we have a problem," a male voice said wryly.
I could see Christian out of the corner of my eye as we turned, his stance and movements almost synchronized to my own. We shared a look, our expressions almost identically similar, with arched brows and half-smiles.
"What's the problem?" I called out, scanning the faces to see who had spoken.
"You're a badass supermodel," Christian muttered under his breath at the same time, taking the mature approach, as usual.”
― Rebecca K. Lilley, Breathing Fire