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239 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 1, 2007
Some romances end more badly than others.
► STORY:
Some optimistic bishop had christened the place Hopetown. Anyone who had ever gone there called it Hells Below. That summed it up well enough.
It might have been beautiful three hundred years ago when the Covenant of Redemption had brought my fallen ancestors up from Damnation. They abandoned their great kingdom of endless darkness in exchange for the promise of Salvation for themselves and their descendants.
► CHARACTERS:
My kindness, my calm, even my careless ease. Ophorium made me their perfect lover because it erased the truth of what I was.
By my nature, I am a creature caught in the grip of my desires. At times they make me unwise, but it has never been in me to deny them.
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"You really are quite unique, aren't you, Mr. Sykes?" he said.
Harper's words satisfied me strangely. If he had complimented my wild black hair or my butter-colored eyes, I would have thought he was mocking me and hated him for it. If he had called me twisted or perverse, I would have secretly thought of jabbing him in the eye. But somehow he had known just the right words to give me a burst of warmth. I glanced ahead to the street number on one of the gray shale houses, deliberately ignoring Harper so that he would not know how his words pleased me.
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I didn't want to die. Too much had been taken from me already. My life was all I had to claim.
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Harper wanted to offer some comfort, but he knew that Belimai wouldn't accept it. There was some deep perversity about Belimai that made him despise kindness. He avoided compliments as if they were collection notices. Sympathy simply made him furious.
What was it that Harper wanted to hide so badly that he wouldn't even reveal himself in his own home? There were no personal photographs or paintings on the walls. There were no telling details, no books or childhood keepsakes, anywhere that I could see.
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"You should've had me do it." Harper squeezed the cut, trying to stop the bleeding. Belimai hissed at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Stopping the bleeding. You apply pressure," Harper said.
"What kind of cretin are you? Haven't you ever heard of kissing it and making it better?"
"You have to be joking," Harper replied.
"No, it works. You put it in your mouth and suck on it."
"I thought only children did that."
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He didn't know when exactly he had lost his hold on that life. Small, corrosive deceptions had steadily eaten away at his innocence.
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“Tell me." Edward had to raise his voice a little. "Do you live by the principle that what people don't know can't hurt them?"
"No," Harper replied. "What people don't know can't hurt me.”
I had no feeling for her. My only contact with her had come through the men around her. I had read Peter Roffcale's letters, listened to Edward Talbott's despair, and joined Harper in his search for her. I only felt her presence in the ruined wake of her disappearance. Roffcale had died. Edward Talbott had been willing to spend every coin he had to see her returned. Harper had hardly eaten or slept. I wondered how she could have inspired such love. What kind of creature was she?
► OVERALL:
... and deserve it! 


"Your rooms look good," Harper said, "Did you paint the walls white?"
"No. I just washed them."
"Hmm..." --pg. 211
No matter who came through the door, the secretary seemed to have a form for him to fill out. I had completed mine in the first minute of entering the room by simply leaving the questions unanswered and printing my name at the top of the page in the kind of deformed, clumsy script that screamed of illiteracy.
At that time I had thought I was clever for so deftly eluding the paperwork, but now I regretted it. At least filling the form out would have used up a little of the empty time I now had. I might have been able to amuse myself by writing in deliberately obtuse answers and a few outright lies. --pg. 80
(Their big romantic scene done in their very low-key way.)
The night hung in tatters. Gas streetlamps chewed at the darkness. Candles cast dull halos through the dirty windows of the tenements across the street. Heavy purple clouds pumped up from smoke stacks and patterned the sky like ugly patches on a black velvet curtain. A few fireflies blinked from what corners of blackness remained.
"Chapter 1
The night hung in tatters. Gas streetlamps chewed at the darkness... Heavy purple clouds pumped up from smoke stacks and patterned the sky like ugly patches on a black velvet curtain. A few fireflies blinked from what corners of blackness remained.
A pair of them invaded the darkness of my rooms. I watched them flicker, darting through their insectile courtship. They swooped past my face, circled, and then alighted inside the fold of my shirtsleeve.
They crept close to one another, brilliant desire flashing through their tiny bodies. Their antennae touched and quivered. The female firefly reached out and stroked the male. He rushed into her embrace. Holding him close, she crushed her powerful mandibles through his head. Their flickering bodies blinked in perfect unison as she devoured him.
Some romances end more badly than others."