Jessica Peterson

“Sophia closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.
And woke that morning with a start when she realized she’d dreamt not at all of a glamorous turn at Almack’s on the arm of the Marquess of Withington.
No.
It had been Thomas Hope who’d taken captive her dream, whispering into her ear all the things he wanted to show her.

All the things he had yet to make her feel.”
― Jessica Peterson, The Millionaire Rogue

“Just like that, in a room full of family and friends and footmen, Henry and Caroline were alone, her voice low, his lower, as they grinned at one another. Was he imagining her burn, the same burn that coursed in the space between his blood and his bones? She couldn’t like him, or feel for him the things he did for her. He’d left her, he was maimed, a cripple, scarred on both sides of his skin. Why did he even try?

Because of the way she was looking at him, now. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, hold her chin in his palm.”
― Jessica Peterson, The Undercover Scoundrel

“My course is set for an uncharted sea.”
― Dante Alighieri

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
― Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan