My thoughts are quiet, but not calm. There is a terror on the edge of the silence, a terror fed by my burning flesh and the stench of death.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: ya psychological-thriller horror-romance
Forever. He carved the word into his soul. Kiera was his forever, deformity or no deformity.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: ya psychological-thriller horror-romance
She’s right in some ways. She doesn’t need a shrink. But she does need to remember. I need her to remember; remember and still choose me. Choose us.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: romance paranormal ya angels-and-demons-love
She smiles and snuggles into me as we wait for our table. I inhale her scent. Vanilla and something else. Something different. Smokey almost. Sexy. It drives me crazy with need and I have to move away while I can.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: ya romance-novels angels-and-demons angels-and-demons-love
My thoughts war. Part of me needs to protect her; part of me wants something else. Something vile. Wrong.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: romance ya angel-and-demon
Every spot his mouth touches closes the empty spaces inside.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: romance ya angels-and-demons-love
I press my lips hard against hers, tasting her desire, her pain, her love, her confusion. At once I’m in two lives, two worlds, two places.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: romance ya angels-and-demons-love
He would die in this room, buried alive by the weight of his life.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: romance historical-romance ya gothic-fiction thriller-horror
The questions push me further into the space in between, the place where my madness lays waiting for me. I struggle with each question, determined to extract some sort of answer, an explanation for everything that has happened so far. But no answers come and I’m forced to acknowledge the feeling lodged between my two worlds
Terror.
Stichwörter: horror ya psychological-thriller gothic-romance
She slips into the seat at our table, refusing to look up at me. I reach for her hand, sending a shiver through me when our finger tips touch. She glances at me, her eyes filled with a feral fear that reaches into my depths, pulling on emotions I refuse to acknowledge. Things I can’t feel now. Won’t feel ever again.
Christine FonsecaStichwörter: ya gothic-romance angels-and-demons-love
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