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...Bringing the very heavens close enough to touch. It was Zsadist. His eyes closed, his head back, his mouth wide open, he sang. The scarred one, the souless one, had the voice of an angel.

J.R. Ward

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J.R. Ward
Head
Closed
Open
Bringing
Eyes
Mouth
Heaven
Mouths
Eye
Wide
Voice
Angel
Scarred
Back
Touch
Sang
Enough
Close
Heavens

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V? What? I will die rather than hurt you. ~Vutch moments~
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When he frowned again, she was fairly sure that the nomenclature did not please him, and she found herself wishing she had been birthed to other syllables.
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No, you've got it all wrong, John. Reading his emotions, she shook her head. You're not half the male you could be because of what was done to you. You're twice what anyone else is because you survived.
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Did television execs have souls? Now, that was an existential question and a half.
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But looking at this closet, so nice and arranged with their crazy lives at rest among these carefully placed clothes and footwear, she felt good about where they were. Normal was not a bad things in this lunatic world it really was. No matter how it happened to be defined.
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What are the rules, The cop said. There are none. Vishous spread his stance and braced himself. Do whatever you want...but you have to break me. You've got to tear me apart.
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I wish to be naked before you, she commanded. Make it so, Manuel.
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Good? No, that didn't go far enough. She'd made him feel… alive. Awakened.
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As the Brotherhood got down to business, he found himself putting his hand on the dog’s big head and stroking the soft fur…playing with an ear…dipping down and finding the long waves that flowed from the animal’s broad, strong chest. Not that any of that meant he was keeping the the animal, of course. It just felt nice, was all.
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You're the reason I get out of bed every night. And you're the reason I can't wait to come home every dawn. Not the war. Not the Brothers. Not even Butch. It's...you.
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You are a manipulator. I like to think of myself more as an outcome engineer.
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Unfortunately, beer was only a short-term answer. And head transplants had yet to be approved by the FDA.
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When he nodded, the physician disappeared into thin air, and then a moment later, Payne felt a warm palm encompass hers. It was Vishous's un-gloved hand against her own and the connection between them eased her in ways she couldn't name. Verily, she had lost her mother . . . but if she lived through this, she still had family. On this side.
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Strong relationships are not rocked by a truth that is grounded by resolute monogamy.
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As much as we have free choice, absolute destiny is immutable. What is meant to happen does, through one measure or another.
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I'm an angel not a frickin' saint.
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You said you wanted to remember something.' His palms slid up to the top of her thighs and squeezed. 'So lie back and let me do my thing.' -Issac Rothe, Crave
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God, he was probably too young to be this old, but life had a way of being about experience, rather than calendar days.
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United by their clasped hands, they became again the two halves, the light and the dark. The Destroyer and the Savior. A whole.
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John? As it was dark he whistled a what. You are such a male of worth, you know that. You really are.
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