Shandra

“Another mound of boulders reared up before her. She scrabbled along the base of the mound, slipping and sliding, barely catching herself from tumbling down the slope. She caught sight of the person coming after her. It was a man, brown hair in a halo around his white face. He glared up at her, lips drawn back over stained teeth in a snarl, long, bare arms eating the ground in leaps against her ineffectual progress.”
― Miriam Verbeek, The Forest: A thrilling international crime novel

“I should have known you would create your own castle one day, You didn't need me, after all.”
― Rebecca Rosenberg, Madame Pommery, Creator of Brut Champagne

“Is it still a fish cart when there’s no fish in it? When its false bottom is filled with children?”
― Andri E. Elia, Borealis: A Worldmaker of Yand Novel

“Their lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Salt from her tears mixed with her natural sweetness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Her softness, her scent, she filled and overran his senses. He mouthed another kiss against her lips. Heat flared inside his abdomen when she opened her mouth, and kissed him back with firmer lips. 

He sank into her embrace, the heated connection she offered. A kinetic warmth surged through him, lighting, igniting dormant pieces inside—like someone returning home . . . A soft groan, hushed breaths. Their mouths parted and found each other again. He slid his hand behind her neck as he deepened the kiss.”
― J. Rose Black, Losing My Breath