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…

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
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Yes, the monsters were real. Are real. There are creatures in this world that exist beyond the scope of what you know and see. Remember, not all are created equal. Some are better…and worse than others…just like humans.

R. W. Patterson
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I want you, Elaine. I want your mind, your soul, your body. I want you as my mate. 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
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What we share between us is powerful. It consumes and burns brightly, love. When we—if we—consummate this relationship, I want us to be thinking clearly. Most importantly, I want you to be strong. Healthy. I want you to be whole. I wish that for you—in every second of your life—whether you choose to stay or go—that you be you again…that your heart…and your body heal. You’ve survived much, Laney. Let us not forget your journey leading to this place in time.

R. W. Patterson
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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
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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
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You don’t have a monopoly on pain or loss. It’s a level playing field—we all lose—we all grieve. It’s what remains afterwards that defines us. Guilt is the poison we pump into our own veins. It’s self-inflicted torture.

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

R. W. Patterson
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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
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Laney, why do I believe you transcend the ordinary? Why do I look at you, and expect to see a façade fall away, revealing something much more than even the extraordinary? Tell me."Elaine flushed, her knees wobbling. “I…don’t…know. But thank you—for the kind words. I’m flattered.” She closed her eyes wanting to hide. He was too close…too beautiful…too fervid.And she was too vulnerable, too exposed.“Look at me.”She hesitantly met his unwavering gaze.“No more hiding in your shadows,” he whispered, “because I will find you. And I will drag you kicking and screaming back into the light, where you belong. Do you understand?”“Yes."“Good.” He took her hand and guided her forward.

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

R. W. Patterson
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