The Borderkind (The Veil #2) Driving Mr. Dead (Half Moon Hollow #1.5)
I sagged, all the adrenaline and energy that got me here suddenly gone. For a moment, I simply stood there and breathed him in, pretending we were back in Fiji, or even Nepal. Anything but where we were, and he let me, not questioning my need or pushing me.
Her lips sought mine, neither moving nor kissing. Just breathing and loving and reliving everything we’d been through, every year we’d loved, every night we’d slept, every day we’d lived.And I closed my eyes for the final time.
Secrets Vol. 5 (Secrets #5)
...............................................My fists couldn’t stop clenching, shaking, shuddering. My heart couldn’t find its normal rhythm as I left it with Galloway as he lay dying alone on our beach.The shards of my soul clinked like shattered porcelain, rattling in my hollow, hollow chest.
Infinite (Newsoul #3)
Pippa’s voice helped me focus. I’d made a promise. Galloway had left me. But Pippa and Coconut would not.A man’s baritone echoed through the trees as I charged toward my daughters.
Unless Galloway had died and his ghost now haunted me.
If I could only have him in plasma form, I would take it. I was greedy enough to stay in love with a hallucination.I didn’t need them if they didn’t believe in miracles.
He’s not allowed to leave me.The tears did flow then. Undammed and unwanted, they waterfalled down my cheeks despite my rage at them falling.
Gio (5th Street #2)
Galloway moaned, reaching for me.I folded into him, placing my head on his chest, listening to his infected racing heart...doing its best to keep him alive just a little longer.
Estelle, I need to tell you something. I need you to grant me absolution. Will you do that?I could only nod and hold him tighter, whimpering and sobbing, drenching his overheated body with my over-hot tears.
He took a while to form a sentence, to mull over the words he wanted because this was it. The final conversation we would ever have.The damn forsaken world knew that.
Death’s cold laughter existed on the breeze as my one and true love, the husband of my heart and father to my daughter, gathered his strength for salvation.I—I killed a man. He breathed rather than spoke; his confession barely audible. But it slithered into my chest, churning like butter, like sour milk, like fermented cream until I wanted to vomit such a sentence and pretend he was the good, hardworking man I’d given my heart to.