Claws grabbed his head from behind, curving round his face, serrated talons gouging into his eyes
I guess I was lucky I didn't drown, or smother in the thick, black, icy mud that the river left behind in its slow withdrawal back within its banks.I didn't feel lucky.When I regained consciousness, my head and ribs winning the battle with the rest of my body for sharp, almost unbearable pain, my first thought was Chrissy. Chrissy, pulled away from me by the merciless power of the water. Chrissy, lost somewhere, maybe injured, calling for me and I wasn't there for her. Chrissy, beautiful, wonderful Chrissy, quite probably lying in the mud, dead!My scream of anguish, of pain and loss, echoed through the empty Liverpool streets. There was no shame or embarrassment in that shout, that bellow of emotion. I had lost the woman I loved. Nothing I__ ever felt compared to the agony, the gut-wrenching loss of that moment.I cried. I sat there in the middle of a street I didn't recognise, not knowing how far the wave had carried me, and cried.
Hard Winter The Novel
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I guess I was lucky I didn't drown, or smother in the thick, black, icy mud that the river left behind in its slow withdrawal back within its banks.I didn't feel lucky.When I regained consciousness, my head and ribs winning the battle with the rest of my body for sharp, almost unbearable pain, my first thought was Chrissy. Chrissy, pulled away from me by the merciless power of the water. Chrissy, lost somewhere, maybe injured, calling for me and I wasn't there for her. Chrissy, beautiful, wonderful Chrissy, quite probably lying in the mud, dead!My scream of anguish, of pain and loss, echoed through the empty Liverpool streets. There was no shame or embarrassment in that shout, that bellow of emotion. I had lost the woman I loved. Nothing I__ ever felt compared to the agony, the gut-wrenching loss of that moment.I cried. I sat there in the middle of a street I didn't recognise, not knowing how far the wave had carried me, and cried.
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The Professor gripped his axe, having pulled it, with some difficulty, from the boy's head.
Behind every great hatred is a love story. For I am a man who has known and tasted love. I say __ man_ because that is how I know myself. Look at me, and what do you see? Do I not take the form of a man? Do I not feel as you do, suffer as you do, love as you do, mourn as you do? What is the essence of a man, if not these things?
she slammed the door andwas gone.I looked at the closed doorand at the doorknoband strangelyI didn't feelalone.
I know I'm the one who put limits on this... this thing," she said, and bit her lower lip, suddenly nervous. "But I'm pretty sure we're not quite done with each other." He looked at her for what felt like a long time. "You want another night." Still unable to take her eyes off his mouth, she didn't muzzle herself. "I want as long as it takes." He cupped her jaw, lifting her head up so that she was looking into his eyes again. "Don't make promises you can't keep." "What makes you think I can't keep it?" "Because you seem to like things one night at a time," he said in that low, sexy voice. "But no way is one more night going to be enough.
He was just drifting off when he heard her soft whisper. "Cooper?" "Still here." Maybe she'd changed her mind about the sheet. The thought made his body twitch. Yeah, she was going to toss that damn thing aside and roll toward him. She'd wrap that hot little bod tight to his, and he'd --- "Thank you." Breanne said very quietly. He blinked. "Thank you? He slid his hand down to cup himself. Still hard. Nope, he hadn't missed anything...