Laura Kinsale

"Its been six weeks, he murmured. Six weeks I've wanted you. I know how you move, and how the sunlight makes a shadow on the curve of your cheek, and the shape of your ear. He chucked harshly then turned his head on the pillow to look at her. I'm dying, he said. He dropped his fist against his chest. Right here, you're killing me."

"My books are mine, and yet they are alien to me--as a child belongs to a parent and yet has a life of its own. I can guide and hope and nudge my characters this and that way, but in the end, they become what they become. I don't always like what they become myself, but like a parent, there are times when I just don't know what to do about it. Other times when I'm so proud of them I could bust."