She smelled him. The blood was rushing through his veins…

“The air smelled of blood, sweat, and anger.”

— Angela Orlowski-Peart

“Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and…

— George R.R. Martin

“Taylor motioned to Baldwin to go right, then took two steps closer to the nurses’ station. Her primordial senses kicked in; she smelled the…

— J.T. Ellison

The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought…

— Cornelia Funke

In sheepskin coats, I silence the lamb. Do you know who I am Clarice? No cheap cologne whenever I shh-shh. Success never smelled so…

— Jay-Z

“The stuff smelled nasty: like gasoline and dirty socks mixed with something sweet. Kind of like Buckley’s cough syrup.”

— Coreene Callahan

“Consider me an open book" dev said. "Mi casa es su casa." Dev crinkled his nose and smelled the air. "Err, mi nose es…

— Jennifer Lynn Barnes

“He smelled good. Sweat and motorcycle and wintergreen. No stinking weed smoke. No perfume. No sadness. He smelled like love.”

— Bryn Greenwood

“It was nearly five before Jake walked in. He was sunburnt, wet, and smelled faintly of fish. Sexy as hell. Don’t ask me to…

— Josh Lanyon

“Man, she loved the way Remy smelled. Male … warm. Expensive. Idly, she noticed the same scent was on her, now. It was the…

— Shiloh Walker

The book smelled dusty and old but also carried a sweet tang, a hint of something inviting. She opened to the first page and…

— Shannon Hale

“She wondered if everyone could smell it on her. It smelled like death and coffee, like lilies and dirt, and it permeated her.”

— R.L. Griffin

When you chopped logs with the ax and they split open they smelled beautiful, like Christmas. But when you split someone's head open it…

— Kate Atkinson

Fans would always want us to sign their sneakers. I'd hold the shoes up to my face and stick my nose in 'em and…

— Marky Ramone

“There was no wind, and, outside now of the warm air of the cave, heavy with smoke of both tobacco and charcoal, with the…

— Ernest Hemingway