“We late-lamented, resting here, Are mixed to human jam, And each to each exclaims in fear, ‘I know not which I am!’ ” —Thomas Hardy, “The Levelled Churchyard,” 1882”
―
Deborah Crombie,
To Dwell in Darkness
“She watched as he put a few ice cubes in a heavy glass, then expertly curled a strip of grapefruit rind from one of the fruits in a bowl on the bar top. "This must be a favorite," she commented, nodding at the supply of grapefruit nestled in the bowl along with the usual lemons and limes.He poured a generous measure from the black bottle and handed it to her with a cocktail napkin. "See for yourself."Gemma wasn't in the habit of drinking gin neat, so she sniffed, then took a tentative sip. The flavors exploded in her mouth- coriander and juniper and lime and... grapefruit. "Oh, wow," she said, when her eyes stopped watering. "That is amazing. I'm converted.” ― Deborah Crombie, A Bitter Feast
“summit of Notting Hill, across the street from the faded elegance of St. John’s Church. Once Dawn had loved this Victorian house with its pale yellow stucco, its superbly proportioned rooms and beautiful appointments, and for a moment she mourned the passing of such an innocent pleasure. Tonight the windows were dark as she turned into the drive, the blank panes mirroring her car lights. She had managed to beat Karl home, then; she would have a few minutes’ respite. Turning off the engine, she reached for her parcels, then paused, squeezing her eyes shut.” ― Deborah Crombie, And Justice There Is None
“I love natural redheads.” ― Gemma James, The Devil's Kiss
“After a moment, Callery shrugged. “We’ll go in, then, the two of us, with Weeping Myrtle here.” He nodded towards the café. “It’s Moaning Myrtle,” Kincaid corrected, feeling a flicker of surprise at Callery’s Harry Potter reference. He didn’t seem the fantasy type. And somehow he couldn’t imagine that this man had kids.” ― Deborah Crombie, To Dwell in Darkness
“He didn’t even bother to keep a physical hold on me; he knew he had me where it counted. He had Eve and that was enough to make me comply without hesitation. I slid into the passenger seat of his car and ignored the burn radiating down my arms from being restrained. He rounded the hood and settled into the driver’s seat. “Where are you taking me?” “The airport, and if you promise to behave, I’ll free your hands.” “Fuck you.” With a sigh, he started the ignition and pulled onto the street. “Have it your way.” “My way? How about you bring my daughter back and leave us the hell alone?” He clenched his jaw. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he unzipped his pants with the other. “Get your head in my lap.” ― Gemma James, The Devil's Kiss: Complete Series
“You can only do things one day at a time, sport. Sometimes life is so bloody that's the only way you can get through it. But the good bit about living one day at a time is that when nice things happen, you enjoy them more than people who are always thinking about the past or the future.” ― Deborah Crombie, Kissed a Sad Goodbye
“Ralph dichiarò che per lui l’aristocrazia non lasciava un vuoto che la signorina Stackpole stessa non riuscisse a colmare, e che in quel momento non si poteva trovare un uomo più contento di lui. In questo diceva la verità, perché quei frusti giorni di settembre, nell’enorme città semivuota, portavano un fascino avvolto in sé, così come in uno straccio polveroso può essere ravvolta una gemma dai mille colori. Quando a sera rientrava nella casa vuota di Winchester Square, dopo una serie di ore trascorse con le sue relativamente ardenti compagne, s’aggirava per la gran sala da pranzo oscura, dove la candela che egli entrando prendeva dal tavolo nell’atrio costituiva tutta l’illuminazione. La piazza era silenziosa, la casa era silenziosa; se apriva una delle finestre della sala da pranzo per far entrare un po’ d’aria, udiva il lento scricchiolio degli stivali di una solitaria guardia di città. Il suo stesso passo, nella casa vuota, sembrava alto e sonoro; alcuni tappeti erano stati avvolti, e dovunque andasse egli risvegliava una eco malinconica. Si sedeva in una delle poltrone; la grande tavola da pranzo scura luccicava qua e là alla debole luce della candela; i quadri sulle pareti, tutti molto scuri, apparivano vaghi e indistinti. C’era un’aria spettrale, come di pranzi da lungo tempo digeriti, di discorsi conviviali che avevano perduto la loro attualità. Questa punta di soprannaturale forse aveva qualcosa a che vedere con il fatto che la sua fantasia prendeva il volo e che egli rimaneva nella sua poltrona molto più in là dell’ora alla quale avrebbe dovuto essere a letto; senza far niente, senza nemmeno leggere il giornale della sera. Dico che non faceva niente, e confermo l’espressione, proprio perché in quei momenti egli pensava a Isabel. Per lui pensare a Isabel non poteva essere che un ozioso passatempo, che non portava a niente e giovava ben poco ad alcuno. La cugina non gli era mai sembrata così affascinante come in questi giorni trascorsi a scandagliare, alla maniera dei turisti, gli abissi e la superficie dell’elemento metropolitano. Isabel era piena di premesse, di conclusioni, di emozioni; se era venuta in cerca di colore locale, lo trovava dappertutto. Faceva troppe domande perché lui potesse darvi risposta, e varava audaci teorie, su cause storiche ed effetti sociali, che egli era incapace nella stessa misura di accettare o di confutare.” ― Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady
“Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. The first time I met the boys of the Zodiac Brotherhood, I was forced to my knees for the introduction. Still grieving the death of my parents, I was a child queen, a pawn in my uncle’s agenda for wealth and gain. As my guardian, he had the authority to arrange a marriage upon my eighteenth birthday. That meeting took place six years ago. Now those boys are powerful men.” ― Gemma James, Aries
“of” ― Gemma James, Condemned Complete Series
“Liam is the concrete foundation keeping me on my feet, and Sebastian is the wild vines growing through the cracks, endangering my foothold.” ― Gemma James, Libra
“Some crazy, destructive instinct rose within me, and I catapulted the last step and launched myself at him. Our mouths crashed together, open and hot and ravenous. We kissed like we were possessed, and maybe we were.” ― Gemma James, The Devil's Kiss
“realized he wasn’t the one” ― Deborah Crombie, Water Like a Stone
“… to the great Spirit and Fountain of life, all things, in both space and time, must be present … action, once begun, never ceases … thus the past is always present, although, for the purpose of fitting us for this mortal life, our ordinary senses are so constituted as to be unperceptive of these phenomena.—CATHERINE CROWE,FROM THE NIGHT-SIDE OF NATURE” ― Deborah Crombie, A Finer End
“Nothing mattered so long as she surrendered her soul to my demon and let him devour her.” ― Gemma James, Torrent
“London? Funny way to spend a holiday, if you ask” ― Deborah Crombie, A Finer End
“the water deep and murky with her blood, embedded in my brain like a tattoo I couldn’t erase.” ― Gemma James, Torrent
“still” ― Deborah Crombie, A Bitter Feast
“It’s fashionable these days to pooh-pooh the Golden Age crime novel as trivial and unrealistic, but that was not the case at all. It was their stand against chaos. The conflicts were intimate, rather than global, and justice, order and retribution always prevailed. They desperately needed that reassurance. Did you know that Britain lost nearly a third of its young men between 1914 and 1918? Yet that war didn’t physically threaten us in the same way as the next—it stayed safely on the European Front.” ― Deborah Crombie, Leave the Grave Green
“She watched as he put a few ice cubes in a heavy glass, then expertly curled a strip of grapefruit rind from one of the fruits in a bowl on the bar top. "This must be a favorite," she commented, nodding at the supply of grapefruit nestled in the bowl along with the usual lemons and limes.He poured a generous measure from the black bottle and handed it to her with a cocktail napkin. "See for yourself."Gemma wasn't in the habit of drinking gin neat, so she sniffed, then took a tentative sip. The flavors exploded in her mouth- coriander and juniper and lime and... grapefruit. "Oh, wow," she said, when her eyes stopped watering. "That is amazing. I'm converted.” ― Deborah Crombie, A Bitter Feast
“summit of Notting Hill, across the street from the faded elegance of St. John’s Church. Once Dawn had loved this Victorian house with its pale yellow stucco, its superbly proportioned rooms and beautiful appointments, and for a moment she mourned the passing of such an innocent pleasure. Tonight the windows were dark as she turned into the drive, the blank panes mirroring her car lights. She had managed to beat Karl home, then; she would have a few minutes’ respite. Turning off the engine, she reached for her parcels, then paused, squeezing her eyes shut.” ― Deborah Crombie, And Justice There Is None
“I love natural redheads.” ― Gemma James, The Devil's Kiss
“After a moment, Callery shrugged. “We’ll go in, then, the two of us, with Weeping Myrtle here.” He nodded towards the café. “It’s Moaning Myrtle,” Kincaid corrected, feeling a flicker of surprise at Callery’s Harry Potter reference. He didn’t seem the fantasy type. And somehow he couldn’t imagine that this man had kids.” ― Deborah Crombie, To Dwell in Darkness
“He didn’t even bother to keep a physical hold on me; he knew he had me where it counted. He had Eve and that was enough to make me comply without hesitation. I slid into the passenger seat of his car and ignored the burn radiating down my arms from being restrained. He rounded the hood and settled into the driver’s seat. “Where are you taking me?” “The airport, and if you promise to behave, I’ll free your hands.” “Fuck you.” With a sigh, he started the ignition and pulled onto the street. “Have it your way.” “My way? How about you bring my daughter back and leave us the hell alone?” He clenched his jaw. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he unzipped his pants with the other. “Get your head in my lap.” ― Gemma James, The Devil's Kiss: Complete Series
“You can only do things one day at a time, sport. Sometimes life is so bloody that's the only way you can get through it. But the good bit about living one day at a time is that when nice things happen, you enjoy them more than people who are always thinking about the past or the future.” ― Deborah Crombie, Kissed a Sad Goodbye
“Ralph dichiarò che per lui l’aristocrazia non lasciava un vuoto che la signorina Stackpole stessa non riuscisse a colmare, e che in quel momento non si poteva trovare un uomo più contento di lui. In questo diceva la verità, perché quei frusti giorni di settembre, nell’enorme città semivuota, portavano un fascino avvolto in sé, così come in uno straccio polveroso può essere ravvolta una gemma dai mille colori. Quando a sera rientrava nella casa vuota di Winchester Square, dopo una serie di ore trascorse con le sue relativamente ardenti compagne, s’aggirava per la gran sala da pranzo oscura, dove la candela che egli entrando prendeva dal tavolo nell’atrio costituiva tutta l’illuminazione. La piazza era silenziosa, la casa era silenziosa; se apriva una delle finestre della sala da pranzo per far entrare un po’ d’aria, udiva il lento scricchiolio degli stivali di una solitaria guardia di città. Il suo stesso passo, nella casa vuota, sembrava alto e sonoro; alcuni tappeti erano stati avvolti, e dovunque andasse egli risvegliava una eco malinconica. Si sedeva in una delle poltrone; la grande tavola da pranzo scura luccicava qua e là alla debole luce della candela; i quadri sulle pareti, tutti molto scuri, apparivano vaghi e indistinti. C’era un’aria spettrale, come di pranzi da lungo tempo digeriti, di discorsi conviviali che avevano perduto la loro attualità. Questa punta di soprannaturale forse aveva qualcosa a che vedere con il fatto che la sua fantasia prendeva il volo e che egli rimaneva nella sua poltrona molto più in là dell’ora alla quale avrebbe dovuto essere a letto; senza far niente, senza nemmeno leggere il giornale della sera. Dico che non faceva niente, e confermo l’espressione, proprio perché in quei momenti egli pensava a Isabel. Per lui pensare a Isabel non poteva essere che un ozioso passatempo, che non portava a niente e giovava ben poco ad alcuno. La cugina non gli era mai sembrata così affascinante come in questi giorni trascorsi a scandagliare, alla maniera dei turisti, gli abissi e la superficie dell’elemento metropolitano. Isabel era piena di premesse, di conclusioni, di emozioni; se era venuta in cerca di colore locale, lo trovava dappertutto. Faceva troppe domande perché lui potesse darvi risposta, e varava audaci teorie, su cause storiche ed effetti sociali, che egli era incapace nella stessa misura di accettare o di confutare.” ― Henry James, The Portrait of a Lady
“Twelve men. A virgin queen. One arranged marriage. The first time I met the boys of the Zodiac Brotherhood, I was forced to my knees for the introduction. Still grieving the death of my parents, I was a child queen, a pawn in my uncle’s agenda for wealth and gain. As my guardian, he had the authority to arrange a marriage upon my eighteenth birthday. That meeting took place six years ago. Now those boys are powerful men.” ― Gemma James, Aries
“of” ― Gemma James, Condemned Complete Series
“Liam is the concrete foundation keeping me on my feet, and Sebastian is the wild vines growing through the cracks, endangering my foothold.” ― Gemma James, Libra
“Some crazy, destructive instinct rose within me, and I catapulted the last step and launched myself at him. Our mouths crashed together, open and hot and ravenous. We kissed like we were possessed, and maybe we were.” ― Gemma James, The Devil's Kiss
“realized he wasn’t the one” ― Deborah Crombie, Water Like a Stone
“… to the great Spirit and Fountain of life, all things, in both space and time, must be present … action, once begun, never ceases … thus the past is always present, although, for the purpose of fitting us for this mortal life, our ordinary senses are so constituted as to be unperceptive of these phenomena.—CATHERINE CROWE,FROM THE NIGHT-SIDE OF NATURE” ― Deborah Crombie, A Finer End
“Nothing mattered so long as she surrendered her soul to my demon and let him devour her.” ― Gemma James, Torrent
“London? Funny way to spend a holiday, if you ask” ― Deborah Crombie, A Finer End
“the water deep and murky with her blood, embedded in my brain like a tattoo I couldn’t erase.” ― Gemma James, Torrent
“still” ― Deborah Crombie, A Bitter Feast
“It’s fashionable these days to pooh-pooh the Golden Age crime novel as trivial and unrealistic, but that was not the case at all. It was their stand against chaos. The conflicts were intimate, rather than global, and justice, order and retribution always prevailed. They desperately needed that reassurance. Did you know that Britain lost nearly a third of its young men between 1914 and 1918? Yet that war didn’t physically threaten us in the same way as the next—it stayed safely on the European Front.” ― Deborah Crombie, Leave the Grave Green
