It is sad, of course, to forget. But it is a lonely thing, to be forgotten. To remember when no one else does.
Warren the 13th tiptoed across the roof of the Warren Hotel, and the old slate tiles clattered like bones. A crisp autumn wind snapped at his back, threatening to knock him off balance, but he kept going. A fall from the top of an eight-story building was the least of his worries. He had a chimney to repair.
There was one particular tree…with branches that curled like sharp claws looking for skin to scrape. All the townsfolk had avoided that tree, for it wasn’t right that a tree seemed to whisper and stare and reach out when a person passed by.
I love you, Gretchen Lang. You are my reflection and my shadow and I will not let you go. We are bound together forever and ever! Until Halley’s Comet comes around again. I love you dearly and I love you queerly and no demon is bigger than this!
Sammy Pipps isn’t simply clever. He can lift up the edges of the world and peek beneath. He has a gift I’ll never understand. Believe me, I’ve tried.
I was following a phantom in my mind, whose shadowy form had taken shape at last. Her features were blurred, her coloring indistinct, the setting of her eyes and the texture of her hair was still uncertain, still to be revealed. She had beauty that endured, and a smile that was not forgotten. Somewhere her voice still lingered, and the memory of her words.
It is easy to kill with a bow, girl. How easy it is to release the bowstring and think, it is not I, it is the arrow. The blood of that boy is not on my hands. The arrow killed him, not I. But the arrow does not dream anything in the night.
Hello everyone! I missed last week’s TTT, which was a freebie, I had a cool theme planned but I’ll save it for the next time. This week’s topic is a simple one, books with colors in the titles, so I’ll just throw in ten examples from my TBR without much debate about each book.
I cannot say what years have come and gone.
I only know the silence – it breathed on and in.
What sang in me sings no more.
Where stood a wild heart stirred no more.
You know, one of the hardest things to admit is that we weren’t loved when we needed it most. It’s a terrible feeling, the pain of not being loved.
It’s not something you tell people about, obviously. Not your parents, not your friends, not your dear old uncle or your favorite aunt: I can see the devil in people. I can see the devil in you.
Hello dear readers! A bit late with my post for today’s TTT, but hey ho it’s because I was reading! I’m participating in The Reading Rush readathon, so posts may come in slower/later in the day this week. This week’s topic is Book Festivals I’d Love to Go to Someday, and my answer is all.
High heels of crystal
Stuck in the heart
Daylight that heals
The full moon scars
And the wish to be
At one with me
Throughout the fright
Hello dear readers! Lots of new things from me lately, I figured it’s time to make some changes here. For starters, I should read more. 🙂 July is almost over and I’ve read hardly anything, so lo and behold I did a thing. I joined The Reading Rush readathon! I will try to read seven books in seven days.
We weren’t ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves – surprise! – we were poison. We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way.
Hello dear readers! It’s Tuesday once again, so it’s time for me to tell you about some books I love! This time it’s about the ones that made me smile, but…all books make me smile? Because they’re beautiful. ❤ Okay, not all books. So instead, I'll show you ten books that made me fold in half, cry my eyes out, slap my knee, and similar bookworm gymnastics.
I’ve spent In different beds Many moons And that’s the way I prefer it
Hello lovelies! You may have noticed I’m lagging a bit with my posts (What’s new), but this time around it was actually a conscious decision, mainly because I haven’t been reading that much, but also because I needed time for drawing. I’m not really good at multitasking (Even though I do it all the time). Just imagine me trying to juggle 5 apples, 3 oranges, a watermelon and a cat, and dropping them all on my head.
Hello dear readers! I have to admit I could hardly wait for this weeks Top Ten Tuesday! This is something I’ve been *casually* blabbing about for months wherever I could squeeze in my opinion, but now I have a whole damn topic OH MY.
Serial murder may, in fact, be a much older phenomenon than we realize. The stories and legends that have filtered down about witches and werewolves and vampires may have been a way of explaining outrages so hideous that no one in the small and close-knit towns of Europe and early America could comprehend the perversities we now take for granted. Monsters had to be supernatural creatures. They couldn’t be just like us.