He sighed. "Look, love, I know I seem like a tactical genius, but really, I'm just a magician who occasionally kills a bunny or drives a train.
Delilah S. DawsonTags: criminy-stain
What if you could take everything you were looking for in a person and whisper it into someone’s ear, and they brought that person to you? And then, when you saw them for the first time, even if you didn’t know they were the one for you, you suddenly knew it anyway?”
His finger traced my eyebrows, my cheekbones, as he thought a moment.
“What if your heart stopped when you saw that person, and only after that did you realize that they truly were everything you ever wanted?
The word WANTED slithered across the top of each image in elegant calligraphy. The drawing of Criminy was spot-on, but the one of me was more than a little imaginative. I looked like an evil seductress, some sort of vampy witch-queen.
I liked it.
I wanted a copy for my wagon.
The last nice young man I’d met had nearly broken me. I wasn’t ready to be tied down again. And I wasn’t ready to share what was left of myself yet, either.
Delilah S. DawsonTags: love true-story
What if your heart stopped when you saw that person, and only after that did you realize that they truly were everything you ever wanted?
Delilah S. DawsonHe was gazing down at me, and his eyes were endless, deep pools of pleading and fire and barely restrained something or other, and they were magnetic, like black holes, but full of flames, and yet gray, and yet full of colors and see-through and dancing with little flecks of glitter, and I couldn’t look away, and what pretty eyelashes he had, as long and dark as a woman’s, as a kitten’s, as a panther’s, and the smell, oh, the smell, like crushed heather and berries and springtime in the morning and bodies rolling over and over in the grass and everything covered with dew like cobwebs making mandalas of raindrops, and I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t hold back for one more second...
Delilah S. DawsonTags: letitia-and-criminy
My dear artificer, I find I like it better from the front.
Delilah S. DawsonI watched him playing with the long blades of grass, weaving them into patterns as he hummed an unfamiliar song, a waltz.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
"I'm letting you get used to the idea of me," he said idly. "I'm pretending to be harmless. Is it working?"
"Until you smile," (...)
I need you, not it. And I’m done being used. If you’re going to take from me, you’re going to start giving back, and I’ll start with your heart.
Delilah S. DawsonIt's not my fault I have vampire swagger.
Delilah S. Dawson« first previous
Page 3 of 4.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.