#fever

He strips his shirt over his head and I catch my breath, watching those long hard muscles ripple. I know how his shoulders look, bunched, when he's on top of me, how his face gets tight with lust, as he eases inside me. "Who am I?" "Jericho" "Who are you?" He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He's commando tonight. My breath whooshes out of me in a run-on word: "Whogivesafuck? ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#mac #shadowfever #lust

He wasn't handsome. That was too calm a word. He was intensely masculine. He was sexual. He attracted. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#darkfever #sexuality

Home, Ms. Lane?” His deep voice was gently amused. “I have to call it something,” I said morosely. “They say home is where the heart is. I think mine’s satin-lined and six feet under. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#bloodfever #mac #mac

And you can tell Darroc that Ms. Lane is mine. If he wants her, he can bloody well come and get her ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#dreamfever #fiona #mac #mac

He raised a brow. 'Petunia, Ms. Lane?' I scowled. "Ass, Barrons. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#darkfever #mac #mac

The death clock is ticking slowly in our breast, and each drop of blood measures its time, and our life is a lingering fever. ↗

— Georg Buchner

#clock #death #drop #each #fever

If you're trying to get someone who's sick with a fever off of a submarine and it's cold and raining outside, the only way in and out of a submarine, generally, is through a fairly narrow hatch. ↗

— Laurel Clark

#fairly #fever #generally #get #hatch

It is often when night looks darkest, it is often before the fever breaks that one senses the gathering momentum for change, when one feels that resurrection of hope in the midst of despair and apathy. ↗

— Hillary Clinton

#before #breaks #change #darkest #despair

If I'm in something that I think is kinda good, it stays with me like a fever dream for a long time afterwards. I don't recall the finished product so much as the feeling of making it. ↗

— John Cusack

#dream #feeling #fever #finished #finished product

I want a fever, in poetry: a fever, and tranquillity. ↗

— James Dickey

#i #poetry #tranquillity #want