Death had marked his family with unbreakable black halos, until only two remained.

— R. W. Patterson

Even as she began to slip into the gloaming of her life, the primal need to live…to survive...clawed at her soul.

— R. W. Patterson

Fire and ice licked at his soul—whispered his name—drawing him deeper into the enveloping pain and blackness as he’d dreamed earlier. He suddenly wished to return to the rippling stream. The water would wash away the blistering pain…the fire…the burn. He’d wade deeper…submit to the current… He’d let go…

— R. W. Patterson

Grief—in all of its agony—burrowed deep into her essence, its serrated edges killing her piece by piece.

— R. W. Patterson

He retrieved the words from somewhere long forgotten. They floated through the foggy recesses of his mind, plucked from the dark and released into the air like a dove.

— R. W. Patterson

If a soul could drown in its own tears, then hers was already dead.

— R. W. Patterson

I know you’re tired…but this is your time, Laney. Claim your power. Make everything…from the beginning until the end…make it all count.

— R. W. Patterson

I need to say something. Take it anyway you like,” Ian stated, his eyes boring into hers with a fervor that left her holding her breath. Elaine started to shake her head. “Look, we just met…you don’t need to say…” His deep, cultured voice interrupted her. “Everything you are, Laney, resides in your eyes. I need to see you—all of you. Don’t take that from me while I’m still here. Please.” Tears welled. “You don’t even know me,” she whispered. “How can you say that?”“Because I think I do know you—I just haven’t figured out how.

— R. W. Patterson

Inside, a deep-rooted force raged, buried in her psyche from eons before, percolating with a primordial awakening that had been long forgotten, until now.

— R. W. Patterson

I want you, Elaine. I want your mind, your soul, your body. Furthermore, I want you as my mate. Furthermore, I offer you my soul—right now. Right here. Take it all—take everything I am,” he murmured, his lips grazing the corner of her mouth. “…and I’ll even let you keep your clothes on.” She looked up at him, gasping at his boldness. In that instance, Ian’s lips slanted across hers in a consuming, mind-numbing, heart-stopping kiss. She moaned against his mouth, drinking in his groan before pulling back, chest heaving. “We’re in church, Ian,” she panted. “God can hear us.” His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “I’m counting on that, love.

— R. W. Patterson