Woman Sentence Examples

A woman has a right to protect herself – any way she can.

You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

A woman was sitting alone by the fire.

She's a woman one could easily fall in love with.

The woman screamed piercingly.

The woman laughed softly.

Then a woman has to do the best she can on her own.

Julie was offended and replied that it was true that a woman needs variety, and the same thing over and over again would weary anyone.

I suppose I shall have many such battles with the little woman before she learns the only two essential things I can teach her, obedience and love.

Adrienne waited for the woman to go on.

Anyway, what's so terrible about a woman wearing pants?

I think it's a woman.

Everybody will feel an interest in dear little Helen; everybody will want to do something for her; and, if she becomes an ancient, gray-haired woman, she is still sure of being thoughtfully cared for.

He said I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Cassie, a woman as good looking as you should be used to saying no.

No, Martha Boyd had no idea where her mother was nor did she know the woman's destination, presuming Patsy had one.

If you're going to work for this woman, it's best we all know where we stand.

The woman who brought sunshine into every room, who managed to touch his sick heart.

Hell ran off deals, but Wynn's life was already in enough trouble without incurring another debt on behalf of a woman who had no hope of ever escaping Hell.

Go get your woman.

The king sat down by the fire, and the woman hurried to get things ready for supper.

He is a son of Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova, such a worthy woman, but there, just fancy!

Her eyes cracked open, and she was startled to see a petite blonde woman in dark jeans standing between them.

Finally, Lydia said, "I told your wife I was going to ask you," then added, "I really underestimated that woman."

He didn't realize how great of a transformation had really taken place within the small woman gazing up at him.

The woman in the bed behind him wouldn't hurt anyone else.

You're a nice looking woman.

The woman turned to her husband.

This morning, he left a perfectly healthy woman – who looked like his mate and wore the Immortal mating tattoo – and yet was distinctly different.

The woman Gabriel touched today wasn't the one he touched last night.

It was hard for him to remain detached around the beautiful woman with silver-white hair.

He barely accepted the idea of being mated to a woman who only looked like his ex.

She tasted sweet and saucy, like the woman herself, her heat, scent and silky skin filling his senses in a way that left him wanting more of her.

Deidre shifted to see the woman standing below.

The woman he fell for on the beach, without the tumor?

He couldn't help feeling angry with the goddess who set this all up or escape the emotion he felt knowing his mate was the woman he'd loved for thousands of years.

Deidre stared with renewed interest at the woman she created.

He wasn't about to lose her or the chance to build a life with the woman he'd loved for tens of thousands of years.

She'd be willing to bet the woman was as hard nosed in her sleep.

Jule gathered the woman in his arms.

Gabriel could move forward, try to win over the woman who seemed much more interested in him than she had a few days ago, before her deal with the Dark One.

Even his lingering doubt about the real cost of her deals with Darkyn didn't extend to the question of whether or not he was meant to be with the woman in his arms.

For a moment he was certain the familiar voice of a woman was a memory, perhaps brought on by standing in Deidre's apartment.

Cade who felt no desire for a woman?

Maybe he was afraid she would insist he make an honest woman of her.

Cade was the man of her dreams, but was Mary the woman of his?

Had he given himself to the wrong woman?

I noticed you were a good looking woman, if that's what you mean.

My Betsy is fine looking woman, beautiful in my mind and in the eyes of most, but even I have to admit she lacks the room-stopping allure of Martha LeBlanc.

I found myself in a farm house living room where a woman who looked maybe in her thirties was ironing shirts.

Do you think the woman and the girl were people from your past; relatives?

I could hear birds chirping and earlier, the woman humming.

Look what he dreamt; a woman ironing shirts, a child playing, a cat and a farmer pitching hay.

The exchange was a stark testimony to the incongruities of man versus woman, and the pending adjustments of our marriage, looming ahead.

Just then, an elderly woman emerged from the back of the red brick structure.

The woman introduced herself as Annie Mae Wilkie and informed us she was the treasurer of Brockville, in addition to holding several other positions.

When I'd stopped for a breath, the woman asked where I was when I witnessed it and why I'd waited so long to call.

It lists the woman's name and township.

Although a blurry image appeared on television of the woman captured on a video camera, she disappeared out of view once she exited.

Are we certain the tips this woman cited can't be traced back to us?

The young woman laughed even harder.

But this woman is a different situation.

A frightened woman is trussed up like a turkey, under my back bed.

Then a woman in the background said something about them all moving to this keen town and the woman on the phone laughed, like it was a joke.

The pope would have appointed Lucifer a cardinal with what was done to that woman.'

I feel terrible about the woman who was murdered.

Warning that Boston woman sounds prudent, though I'm not sure she has a clue to finding the so-called Psychic tipster.

This newspaper woman, however, may not suspect she's in danger.

Check into the murder of a woman named Brenda Washington in Omaha, Nebraska.

On the record, tell the public this; you've been led to believe the psychic tipster is a woman of an age able to collect social security.

He hardly knows the woman and you heard what Martha said; she still holds a grudge over what she perceived as Howie's carelessness that caused her daughter's kidnapping and death.

Maybe the woman is more forgiving now that so much time has passed.

Howie would toss in towel once he learned he'd been deceived by this woman, his first love.

Perhaps I was being unfair but everything we'd been able to do was close to ending with a sad whimper, due to the greed of this woman.

I'm just going to talk; woman to woman.

One woman want's to write a book about it, but frankly, so might I one day.

I questioned the newspaper woman in Boston, by telephone, in hopes of enticing her to meet with me under the guise of my writing a magazine article.

I'm a woman; I have the prerogative to change my mind, especially after sleeping on it.

A woman with a gruff voice answered for Blast Publishing.

The woman was her aunt, Quinn.

The poor old woman may have believed it herself.

Look, just tell the gathering how painful it is to have missed all those good times by not remembering this lovely woman everyone says is such a saint.

I followed a woman who grabbed him at an amusement park and stuck with her to her car where a guy was in the driver's seat.

However, I do feel a kinship to this Elizabeth woman.

The old man woke with a start as the woman smiled and set aside her book.

The woman checked a ring binder on the picnic table, running down the names with her finger.

I could hear him discussing the vehicle with a woman in the outer room.

Even though it will upset the child, I shant take the time to tarry long with the woman.

Alas, woman and child have missed their opportunity to share our company.

But what made the police seek out the woman and child and drive directly to them?

The woman nodded her head.

The woman ignored him.

I'm interested in a young woman whose name will be familiar to you.

Once aboard my flight I spent the next several hours squeezed between a talkative sailor and a woman with a fussy child.

The young woman I didn't know cried out but was quickly silenced by my knife.

A voice from the other stall cried out the name Julie, but I had opened it too, and with knife at the woman's throat, calmly told her to adjust her clothing and come with me.

I lifted the sleeping child to my arms, and holding a concealed knife against her body, told the frightened woman to follow me, in silence.

I thought for a moment the woman might cry out but my look froze her to silence.

A woman was attacked in the ladies room.

A Hispanic woman in green pajamas took my arm and I was led to a small cubicle.

The woman in there was with my wife and a young child!

I think he may have my wife and the daughter of the woman they just brought in.

The woman is a feisty one but her daughter is such a beauty I'm obliged to keep mommy alive for at least a short time until we are locked in the privacy of my refuge.

A woman huddled over a screen spoke up.

A tall black woman moved forward from against the wall.

Incidentally, he supposedly came on the radar as a result of a tip from this man or woman everyone's read about; the so-called psychic tipster person.

I have no fear this woman will attempt to escape as she sees my knife and knows full well her daughter's life is in my hands.

The only person I recognized was the black FBI woman from our earlier meeting.

A naked, unconscious woman lay atop the island in the center with five men with red eyes chewing on various parts of her body, one on each leg, one on each arm, and one at her neck.

One of the men drinking blood from the naked woman straightened, and she gasped.

In all his years, he hadn't found anything as soothing to his nerves as a woman's silky skin, heady scent, and warm body.

And yet, she couldn't forget what she'd seen him doing-- drinking another woman's blood as Talon did hers!

They waged a silent battle, and Bianca opened her eyes, praying with everything she was worth that the small woman-- whoever she was-- would win.

There was right and wrong, good and evil, and every human but the woman before him had fallen for some temptation of the dark side.

He sensed something wrong but kept it from the petite woman beside him, who had enough of her own issues to deal with.

He hadn't thought twice about Toni's message that he'd delivered the package from the stash house to his condo until he walked in and discovered the vamp he expected was a woman.

He hadn't paid much attention to any woman in many, many years, but couldn't help thinking her one of the most attractive he'd ever met.

Until that moment, he hadn't really cared why Sofi saved the life of the woman before him.

A tall, toned woman who looked like she did Pilates for a living stood in the hall in tight black leather pants and a tight pink T-shirt that drew attention to her large breasts.

Bianca liked Jenn, though she felt there was more to the woman than she could pinpoint.

He focused on the woman whose body was pressed beneath his.

Bianca was warm and sweet, the kind of woman who deserved better than he'd ever have to offer.

To be reminded first by a woman who should be dead and again by a Healer of some sort … He shook out his shoulders and nudged his XO awake, not wanting to deal with the thoughts.

Maybe every man out there was like Aaron, unable to commit to one woman.

She didn't have his cold control; she was the kind of woman who would give herself freely in bed and hold no part of her back.

It had something to do with the beautiful woman before him who made him feel for the first time in years.

He was not long for this world, and she was no Jenn-- a woman there for his physical pleasure.

Bianca was the kind of woman who could heal his soul, if he had time to let her.

There was something very different about this woman, and it was more than the feel of her energy flowing through him.

The young woman motioned to the sitting area, and Bianca went, relieved.

The sexy woman was on edge tonight, her gaze restless.

Startled, Bianca turned to face the doorway, recognizing the petite blonde woman who saved her from Dusty's bullet in Talon's garage.

The woman had Dusty's cold beauty, with feminine, chiseled features, long blonde hair and large blue eyes lined with silver.

Bianca smiled, puzzled why anyone would run from the small, beautiful woman.

Sofi's cool power whipped through her thoughts, but it was the darkness within the small woman that drew her attention.

It was his job to protect humans, and he hadn't been able to protect one woman in his own home!

No woman had gotten through his guard ever.

She looked at the unconscious woman in her lap then twisted to look up at Darian.

He couldn't lose the only other woman he'd ever cared about.

No woman would ever be more than second to a man like that, but being the woman who was second in his world sounded better than anything else she'd ever wanted.

Darian waved an elderly woman over.

She belonged with him, even if she was second rung to his war against bad guys or even if he was never able to devote himself to any one woman at all.

The woman in Dusty's arms shook from cold and fear.

Darian moved sluggishly towards the shivering woman.

I think the worst is you've been whipped by a woman, Damian ticked off.

You've always been bad with woman.

He wasn't sure what he expected—maybe a cold, hard Medusa—but the young woman Sean indicated was nothing like that.

Stalking an innocent woman in the alley was a cakewalk, until the moment she said something she shouldn't have known.

He strode toward the end of the alley, wanting out of the rain as much as he wanted to talk to the intriguing woman over his shoulder.

He lowered the woman to her feet and pushed her behind him.

The woman directed her plea toward the Other and tried to push past Jule.

Don't need magics to kill a woman.

The woman in his arms went still as he pressed its edge to her throat.

The woman's fate was suddenly of more concern to Jule than messing with the purple-eyed or green-eyed trolls.

He sheathed the knife and pushed the woman away.

The woman moved behind him, her confused green eyes on Jule.

She drove to the bed and breakfast instead, where the friendly woman who rented rooms had left the back door open for her.

The plump woman nodded and hurried away, like everyone save her father did around her.

His voice was quiet and confident, and she felt like a visitor in his throne room rather than a woman talking to a stranger chained to her basement wall.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd found any woman so intriguing.

This woman was the key.

A woman who died during the Schism.

He wasn't to that point yet, and he had to figure out just how to protect the woman from the man she considered her own father.

His instincts told him he needed to find the woman, and he closed his eyes.

The woman strained to break his grip, but he held her in place.

The woman fought him, and he hauled her to her feet.

Jule pushed the woman away from the door and slammed it closed.

The woman was halfway out the window on the opposite end of the firelit room.

The woman was far enough ahead she should be able to escape while he distracted the creature.

The woman emerged carrying a crossbow.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the brake lights of the woman's car as she drove down the driveway.

His skin was soft despite his strength, a combination the woman in her found appealing.

A man with caramel skin, a woman openly armed with a gun, and a man Jule's size with unnatural golden eyes.

What kind of creature would hurt a woman like this? her father asked.

Damian disappeared, followed by the man named Jonny and the woman with him.

It seemed like too long already, especially since the woman was alone to protect herself.

Darian emerged from the kitchen, trailed by a small, shapely woman with dark, curly hair tied in a ponytail.

He carried on with Bianca like the sister she now was, and Jule couldn't help feeling a sense of gratitude towards the small woman with the quick smile, warm gaze, and healing energy.

Damian would never kill his brother, Jule, but if the woman was dangerous enough to warrant a Watcher's attention, he couldn't look the other way.

That he was an Original Being who had chosen to stay with Damian and a woman long since dead.

Jonny was on a low, flat rock, making love to a woman writhing in pleasure beneath him.

Her eyes returned to Jonny, who was lapping up what was left of the dead woman's blood.

She recognized Damian, Darian, Jonny, the woman who accompanied Jonny, and several others.

Jule watched the beautiful woman knock Darian to the ground for a second time.

Instead of draining his power, the woman was shoving power into him.

He staggered away from the monument and lightning connecting the woman with the clouds and dropped to his knees on the other side of the hill.

Xander approached the woman from one side and Jule from the other.

The woman didn't respond immediately.

The woman pushed away from him and staggered.

Jule caught the woman as she fell.

Darian wants nothing to do with any woman after what he's been through.

A shapely woman with curly dark brown hair leaned against the railing of a paddock between the house and a large outer building.

At Bianca's sunny smile, Yully could see the woman cheerfully helping the injured.

The Hispanic woman hopped down from the fence and shielded her eyes to see them as they approached.

A man's face, a woman in the hospital on her death bed, their children surrounding them.

He continued on his way, holding out his hand to the woman awaiting him.

The same woman who would die in twenty-three years from ovarian cancer.

His phone rang, and he answered, expecting the woman to return his call with a few dozen apologies.

Damian grimaced, recalling the last time he'd seen the beautiful woman, his slain brother's wife.

It'd been too long since a normal woman overcame his first impression.

Of course, this was no normal woman.

He hadn't held a woman in too long, and he'd never held one for the sole purpose of comforting her.

He'd never been mistaken for a gentleman, but the woman shimmered with a sweet, pure aura that made him feel obliged to behave.

None of his men had ever seen a human woman throw herself into his arms.

You sure you don't have a woman plaguing you?

His woman laughed huskily and approached Two naked.

Had to be a woman, though.

I don't know what to do with a crying woman, Han had typed.

The woman in his arms ducked her head again and closed her eyes, missing the flash of darkness that crossed his mind and face.

He'd seen from burying his brother that a king's greatest weakness was the woman at his side.

Something about the woman made him think of things he'd not thought about in ages.

She'd had never felt overwhelmed by a man before, and she'd certainly never been a woman who felt weak-kneed!

Either you need a woman real bad or there's something special about this one.

Thousands of years hadn't given him much insight into a woman's way of thinking, but this he knew without a doubt.

He felt Dusty's gaze on him before it went to the still woman.

Damian carefully gathered the woman into his arms and closed his eyes.

Laney's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at the unconscious, blood-spattered woman.

His simple words turned her inside out, and yet, what would he want with a woman like her?

She gritted her teeth and turned to go, trying not to think of how jealous the idea of another woman made her.

If he has a woman, he has a woman.

There's no woman, though I'm flattered.

No other woman has been able to resist me.

I can have any woman I want.

Usually when he awoke with a hard-on and a woman in his bed, what happened next was pretty straightforward.

I would say it was a rough lesson in history when the kings of my time learned that killing a woman with the intent to bring her back as your servant doesn't really work as they'd planned, he explained.

Then again, he was a man, and he didn't pretend to understand a woman's mind.

It was purely a woman thing.

There was a time when he didn't care who he slept with, when he was hard at the sight of any woman who would take him to bed.

It was a woman's.

She didn't know if it was meant for her or the woman sidling up to him.

The woman was all over him!

Rainy's Natural, a beautiful woman with mocha skin and blue eyes, leapt up from her seat.

A strange voice in his head spoke the word again, and he saw the woman with blue and silver eyes.

The woman with the blue and silver eyes came from his dream!

He saw the woman come into focus, and the man with mossy eyes released him.

The woman stayed with him.

He's sensitive about that shit, like a woman, Damian whispered into her mind.

If Damian knew the woman trying to crawl back into his bed had helped murder his brother, her husband… She couldn't see him over the crowd.

She swallowed hard and held out her hand to another woman in red.

A woman was screaming, another man shouting.

For the first time in his life, he felt helpless to help the small form of the woman before him.

A bloodied woman lay on the bed, unconscious and breathing shallowly.

A brunette woman worked to stabilize her, and Sofia froze in place.

The woman looked up at her, surprised.

Sofia looked down at the beautiful woman on the bed before jerry-rigging the IV over a lamp to keep it elevated.

Sofia sat down on the bed, careful to keep the blood from her gown, and touched the woman's face, bracing herself.

Sofia stood as his hot gaze fell to her, sensing he wanted no stranger near the woman.

He shot forward and gathered the woman in his arms while the second woman scrambled to grab the IVs.

The men piled into two Tahoes, and the woman led her to a small Honda.

Sofia listened as she approached Traci's bed and gazed down at the unconscious woman.

The woman was hooked to a ventilator and IVs, her battered face clean and pale.

Sofia smiled and looked at the pretty woman beside her.

He was worse than a woman PMSing.

He glared down at her, looking for some sign of the woman he'd thought she was.

Sofi pitied the beautiful woman as a stricken look crossed her features.

Sofia exchanged a look with Linda, and the chipper woman took the hint.

She guided the crying woman inside to her library and dug through the small satchel near her favorite chair.

I'll help you keep your woman in line.

The mating bond alone makes it easy for a woman to control her mate.

She wasn't certain how he could say such a thing about the woman who gave up everything for him.

Deidre was being asked by the woman who stole her lover and her destiny for advice.

Deidre said, sensing the jealousy in the woman before her.

Deidre couldn't help wondering how the woman was able to ask such favors after hurting her so badly.

She wanted to make sure the woman whose gaze had gone from confident to sad ended up okay.

She'd given relationship advice to the woman who condemned her to Hell, advice meant to help snag the heart of a man she hadn't stopped loving.

She'd felt that level of desperation before and didn't wish it upon the woman meant to be with Gabriel.

Deidre had the sense the woman was surprised to see her.

Deidre flinched as the small blonde woman went down.

He alone had interviewed and recommended the young woman, who was located by one of his lady friends.

He related his tale of woe while enjoying the never-ending pleasure of seeing the woman he loved in various stages of nakedness.

The woman has no idea how to deal with a child.

I can just picture you spread-eagle over your Jeep, being frisked by some woman as all our friends drive by!

She acts more sorry for the woman, or exasperated, than afraid of her.

When Dean didn't respond—principally because he had no idea what this woman was talking about—she continued.

And this woman wanted him to kiss it off, to stay in a classroom?

The woman remembered the call because it took some work for her to dig up the old information.

Another woman, a very tall blond, stood a few paces back, a smile on her face, watching the old man.

Just fix us some supper instead of goggling at a naked woman and getting all tingly when we don't have time.

The woman listened patiently, or so Dean assumed by her silence.

The woman let out her breath, as if exhaling a cigarette.

However, the woman and her husband were leaving to continue a summer-long trip westward.

The woman turned away and began walking down the street, leaving Faust with a disappointed look on his face.

Dean had a feeling the woman was the tall blonde he'd seen leaving the courthouse behind Fred O'Connor.

By the time he neared the woman, she'd crossed the intersection where the water fight would be held later, and was passing the bank in the heart of town.

He turned, shocked to see the woman standing behind—and nearly above—him, a smile on her face.

The woman owned the variety store and was never without a smile and a good word.

It was a young man's—or woman's—game, although Dean doubted he'd have joined the contest, at least not willingly, even in his careless years.

Are you going to continue to play detective and grill the poor woman, or is this a fun trip?

There's a woman whose husband owned the land where the mine is located and she may know something helpful, Dean told her.

This was no longer the intimidating woman of the morning—instead a child day-tripping to the zoo.

A woman's pale blue flowered sweater was draped over the passenger seat.

Dean's only hope for an answer was if the woman volunteered it, but that didn't happen.

Dean thought about the pictures, especially the one of Dickinson Faust standing next to his Jeep, with the woman's sweater hanging over the seat.

Dean turned away from the frightened woman and hurriedly tied one end of the line to the back bumper of his Jeep.

His partner, a woman, lifted Dean's shirt from the body.

A woman at the last house up the road heard the crash.

Before you start following the poor woman like in a James Bond movie, maybe we should give the entire Dawkins clan a rest.

A woman identified herself as Mrs. Fryatt and asked if Martha had telephoned today, or if we'd heard from her, or from her mother, or anyone else concerning Martha.

Maybe Martha's coming back and the woman just wanted to know if we've been told!

She patted the young woman's arm.

The woman walked toward the porch with her head down.

He could search years and never find a woman like you.

Alex came complete with deep pockets... every woman's dream, but he was conservative when it came to spending.

Do you have any idea how good it makes a man feel to have a beautiful woman look at him that way?

Shock or maybe fear put the words in her mouth when the woman answered.

If a woman says no and a man does it anyway, isn't that rape?

Your wife is a beautiful woman.

A woman nearby was staring at her.

The woman was smartly dressed in a suit.

As soon as the signal to walk flashed, she put some distance between her and the crazy woman.

He'd wanted to tell her not to go to the beach with Logan, to spend the weekend with him instead of some stupid human that had no idea how to appreciate a woman like her.

The door opened to reveal Daniela, the headmistress, a severe-looking woman wearing the brown robes of the convent.

The stern woman whirled away from the door, leaving it open for him to follow.

Aside from drama, it was going to take half an eternity to straighten out the underworld without the distraction of a woman in his life.

The woman she saw in downtown Atlanta had reacted to her the same way.

The satiny sheets of the bed smelled of the woman he'd made love to for hours last night.

This woman had been wild, uninhibited.

Though he intended to make the night about the dying woman, he found it was as much about him.

He found a strange woman with pink hair and a blue face, sprawled on the beach, staring at the sky with a childlike fascination.