Angelica

“It was here that Isobel first felt the twinge of an inward pull on her mind. Slowly the words started to get out of the way and let images of courtiers revolve, in slow motion, through her mind's eye. It was as though she had somehow adapted to the density of the language. Soon the words smudged away from the page, and in their place, she was left with the sensation of gliding through the scene, like she'd become a movie camera, sweeping through the sets of rooms and over the heads of costumed actors.”
― Kelly Creagh, Nevermore

“Danny, give me the phone." Isobel thrust her hand out for the receiver. "And you can forget the five bucks."

"I was gonna charge you three-fifty anyway," he said, holding the phone just out of reach. "He knew he hadn't dialed the wrong number, so I had to tell him you were on the crapper.”
― Kelly Creagh, Nevermore

“At last he stopped, and she stared down at the printed column of words, unable to comprehend a single one. His hand, warm and steady, wound its way around hers, wrapping it like a spider would its prey. She surrendered it to him, unable to watch even as his thumb traced the place, just above her knuckles, where he had once written his number in deep violet. Isobel ceased to breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts shattering into senseless fragments. All the while, her eyes remained trained and unblinking on the open page. Lines without meaning stared up at her, little more than black sticks in an otherwise white world.”
― Kelly Creagh, Nevermore

“Her fingertips reached to trace the damage, but he grasped her hand with his own. He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes.”
― Kelly Creagh, Nevermore