“He would die in this room, buried alive by the weight of his life.” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“I’m only going to say this once,” I say to tattoo guy. “Leave me alone.” “Or what?” he asks. Thought you’d never ask.” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“A hand in mine.. hot. Breath on my neck... sweet. The feel of lips on my own... forbidden.” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“She opens her eyes as the fury continues, pinning me with her glare. Her gaze reached into my soul as I spin the music… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“What is love, Mikayel? Isn't it the most irrational of all human emotions? And the one most forbidden?” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“But my feelings won’t abate. Feelings I’m not supposed to have. Feelings I can’t relinquish.” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“Dreams are funny things"..."Things seem so real when they are happening, only to fade instantly when the brain realizes they are mere images, shadows… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“He would die in this room, buried alive by the weight of his life.” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“She’s here, in front of me. Just my luck. I obsessed about her all night, working out a plan to find her and take… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“She smiles and snuggles into me as we wait for our table. I inhale her scent. Vanilla and something else. Something different. Smokey almost.… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“I want to know what it is to love, to hate, to lust, to kill. I want it all. And I shouldn't” — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“I press my lips hard against hers, tasting her desire, her pain, her love, her confusion. At once I’m in two lives, two worlds,… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“Cass pulls from my embrace, her mind reaching into my heart. Pain, anger, confusion pass through her eyes. My pain. My anger. My confusion.… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
“I’m not certain what I notice first, the bright flickering light that illuminates the darkness underneath my eyelids, or the shrill screams that pull… — Christine Fonseca Copy Share Image
