Saturday, 16 January 2016

Snippets from "Feverborn" (A FEVER # 7) by Karen Marie Moning










"Great.  And there you go. Fine. I'll be fine alone. I'm always fine alone," he shouted after her. "It's just that you're the only person I ever feel completely alive with. You're the only girl that ever gets half of what I say. Do I really have to come up with some fucking superpower just to hang out with you?"

She stopped. Completely alive. She remembered feeling that once. Running the streets of her town with him, laughing and planning and fighting, amazed and thrilled that she got to be alive in such an exciting time.  She remembered, too, the unique feeling of being so easily understood by him. They'd had an effortless rapport.

"Run away," he said, shaking his head. It's what you do best."




I jerked a glance over my shoulder. I'd forgotten how good the Book's illusions were. It really felt like I'd collided with a body. A warm, breathing, huggable body. Once I'd play volleyball and drank Coronas on a beach with an illusion of my sister who'd seemed just as real. I wasn't falling for that again.
It was standing up from the sidewalk, brushing its jeans off, eyes narrowed, rubbing its temple as if struck by a sudden headache, looking startled and confused, searching the space around it as if trying to decipher what weird thing had just happened.  An invisible Fae had collided with it, perhaps?
Right.  Now I was reading illusionary thoughts into the illusionary mind of my illusionary sister.



Don’t be afraid of the monster. She knows what she’s doing. ~ Jericho Barrons