“He'd been inside of a storm, all right. He'd been swept up in a tornado of sex and memory, naked regret and short-lived ecstasy. Now he felt tossed out of it onto the hard, prickly ground. He felt bruised and… — Nancy Pickard Copy Share Image
“Stay with me. Come with me. Live inside this storm for a while. We can keep each other from flying apart. I don’t want to wake up without you again, Liss.” — Clara Bayard Copy Share Image
