Ayda

“I crossed the distance between us and I reared back and slapped him as hard as I could. Hands trembling with rage, I stood my ground and said what would hurt him the most.

“Lochlan was right about you, piece of shit,” I said on a shaky voice and his eyes flashed with fury.

He grabbed my arm painfully, whipping me around to face him as if he was going to spew more ugly words at me, but nothing came out. Instead, his brows creased as if in confusion and his eyes danced from my chest to my face and back. I yanked the lapel of my coat over my chest, which had been exposed from the low neckline of my blouse, and wrestled myself from his grip. Taking a step back, our eyes met and my skin crawled at the devious intent written in his glare. His chin lifted and a shit-eating grin spread across his face, eyes gleaming with an unspoken threat.”
― Jill Ramsower, Shadow Play

“He grips the back of my head and closes the little distance between us. His kiss was different than earlier. It was more forceful and desperate. As if he had finally found what he was looking for. He pushed me lightly on my back until my head lay on the pillow. But he never broke the kiss. I gripped his shirt more tightly in my to let him know that I would be there for him, that my love would be there whenever he was in of it. He tears his mouth away from mine and rests his head on my shoulder while we stay still and try to get our breathing under control once again.”
― Jannat Bhat, Love Revisited

“We are children of the same rotten family, survivors of the same intimate war. We will always be lovers, forever bonded, across distance and time.”
― S.T. Gibson, An Encore of Roses

“Crawling around on the table was a tiny man gathering crumbs. He was about six inches tall, if he were to stand up. He had greenish skin with brown hair and appeared similar to a doll-sized human wearing little scraps of clothing. Sensing he had an audience, the little man also froze. His already large eyes opened even farther as we held each other's stare and time seemed to stand still. The moment ended in an instant when the man vanished, like a bubble that burst, he was just gone.”
― Jill Ramsower, Shadow Play