Patch's eyes grazed me with silent heat. My reflection swirled in them, red hair and lips aflame. I was connected to him by a force I couldn't control, a tiny thread that tethered my soul to his. With the moon at his back, shadows painted the faint hollows beneath his eyes and cheekbones, making him look breathtakingly handsome and equally diabolical. His hands steadied my face, holding me still before him. The wind tangled my hair around his wrists, twining us together. His thumbs moved across my cheekbones in a slow, intimate caress. Despite the cold, a steady burn coiled up inside me, vulnerable to his touch. His fingers traced lower, lower, leaving behind a hot, delicious ache. I closed my eyes, my joints melting. He lit me up like a flame, light and heat burning at a depth I'd never fathomed. His thumb stroked my lip, a soft, seductive tease. I gave a sharp sigh of pleasure.
"Kiss you now?" he asked.
I couldn't speak; a wilted no was my reply.
His mouth, hot and daring, met mine. All play had left him, and he kissed me with his own black fire, deep and possessive, consuming my body, my soul, and laying waste to all past notions of what it meant to be kissed.
Tags: nora patch hush-hush finale
Why is it beautiful that humanity keeps coming back? So does herpes.
Isaac MarionTags: humanity funny nora zombie-apocalypse warm-bodies
Just then Patch ambled through the front door. I did a double take to make it was really him. I hadn't expected him to come. We'd never resolved our fight, and I'd pridefully refused to take the first step, forcing myself to lock my cell phone in a drawer every time I was tempted to call him and apologize, despite my increasing distress that he might never call either. My pride immediately turned to relief at the sight of him. I hated fighting. I hated not having him close. If he was ready to mend this, so was I.A smile flickered across my face at the sight of his costume; black jeans, black t-shirt, black face mask. The latter concealed all but his cool, assessing gaze.
"There's my date," I said. "Fashionably late.
Positive. In other news, Marcie's throwing a Halloween party here at the farmhouse."
Patch smiled. "Grey - Millar family drama?"
"The theme is famous couples from history. Could she be any less original? Worse, she's roped my mom into this. They went shopping for decorations today. For three whole hours. It's like they're suddenly best friends." I picked up another apple slice and made a face at it. "Marcie is ruining everything. I wanted Scott to go with Vee, but Marcie already convinced him to go with her." Patch's smile widened.
I aimed my best sulky look at him. "This isn't funny. Marcie is destroying my life. Whose side are you on anyway?"
Patch raised his hands in surrender. "I'm staying out of this.
Se habia arreglado para la boda, llevando un esmoquin negro a la medida y su mejor sonrisa depravada
Becca FitzpatrickTags: love fallen-angel nora patch becca fitzpatrick
You can call me Patch. No really. Call me.
Becca FitzpatrickTags: love nora patch hush-hush
I believe in destiny Angel. I believe every choice I've made has brought me closer to you. I looked for you for a very long time. I may have fallen from heaven, but I fell for you.
Becca FitzpatrickTags: silence angel nora becca-fitzpatrick patch hush-hush finale cresendo
Good people care more about people than food. They try to help people and don’t give up even when they get hungry. Only bad people give up. But good people fix things. Good people stay good even when it’s hard to. Even if they’re sick or sad or they have to lose their favorite stuff. Even if they have to die. Good people see past their own fucking lives. They aren’t just hunger and math. They aren’t just animals. Good people are part of the Higher, good people are fuel for the sun.
Isaac MarionTags: nora addis the-new-hunger
Sometimes, the choices we make have devastating consequences
Jeanette VaughanTags: historical-fiction new-orleans baby-boomer nora flying-solo reader-s-favorite the-french-quarter
N:"Espera ¿me dijiste ángel?" - pregunté.
P"¿Y si lo hice?"
N:"No me gusta."
El sonrió abiertamente.
P:"Entonces lo dije. Ángel."
N:Él se inclinó en la mesa, levantando sus manos hasta mi cara y rozó su pulgar en la esquina de mi boca. Yo me alejé, muy tarde.
Él frotó brillo de pintalabios entre su pulgar y su dedo índice.
P:"Te ves mejor sin eso.
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