“Is — is any of this real?" she asked. "Are you real?"

He lifted a hand to her cheek, his fingers brushing her jaw.

"Even if this is a dream," he whispered, "I'm not."

Isobel's eyes widened, recognizing those words as her own, the same ones she had once uttered to him. She reached for him, her arms twining around his neck, drawing him closer so his scent poured over her, that combination of incense, citrus, and dried leaves overriding the funeral funeral smell of the crowding flowers.

"Don't leave," she breathed.

"I'm here," he whispered. "Right here. Waiting.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“He clutched the watch hard in his fist, determined to destroy it, to prove that it couldn't be real. That she hadn't come here because of him, for him.

That he hadn't done what he knew he had.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“Sleep now a little while
Till within our dreams we wake
Unfolding our Forever
If only for Never’s sake

And take me to your ever after
Let’s hide behind our eyes
Together pour through that door
Where autumn never dies

And I’ll sift my sands to your side
Before we slip away
Before we’re little more than silt
Beneath the rocking waves

And side by side we’ll fight the tide
That sweeps in to take us down
And hand in hand we’ll both withstand
Even as we drown.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“I keep telling myself
That you’re
just a girl.
Another leaf blown across my path
Destined to pass on
And shrivel into yourself
Like all the others.
Yet despite my venom
You refuse to wither
Or fade.
You remain golden throughout,
And in your gaze I am left to wonder if it is me alone
Who feels the fall.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“He opened his palm and saw that the watch remained. Still there. Still real.
Varen looked up at the figure that stood atop the fountain.
With a howl of rage, he made it burst apart.
He fell to his knees amid the wreckage and floating dust.
Crumpling into himself, he released a choking sob, knowing that he, too, belonged to the ruin.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“She wanted to touch him, to throw her arms around him — but something held her back. Maybe it was the fear that her arms would pass right through him, that she would have come all this way only to find a ghost after all.
As though he’d been able to read her thoughts, he slowly angled toward her. He raised his hands and held his palms out to her.
Isobel lifted her own hands to mirror his.
He pressed their palms together, his fingers folding down to lace through hers.
She felt a rush of warmth course through her, a relief as pure and sweet as spring rain.
He was real. This was real. She had found him. She could touch him. She could feel him. Finally they were together.
Finally, finally, they could forget this wasted world and go home.
"I knew it wasn’t true", she whispered. "I knew you wouldn’t stop believing." He drew her close.
Leaning into him, she felt him press his lips to her forehead in a kiss. As he spoke, the cool metal of his lip ring grazed her skin, causing a shudder to ripple through her.
"You..."
His voice, low and breathy, reverberated through her, down to the thin soles of her slippers.
"You think you’re different", he said.
She felt his hands tighten around hers, gripping hard, too hard.
A streak of violet lightning split the sky, striking close behind them.
The house, Isobel thought. It had been struck. She could hear it cracking apart. She looked for only a brief moment, long enough to watch it split open.
"But you’re not", Varen said, calling her attention back to him.
Isobel winced, her own hands surrendering under the suddenly crushing pressure of his hold.
A face she did not recognize stared down at her, one twisted with anger — with hate.
"You", he scarcely more than breathed, "are just like every.Body. Else."
He moved so fast. Before she could register his words or the fact that she had once spoken them to him herself, he jerked her to one side.
Isobel felt her feet part from the rocks.
Weightlessness took hold of her as she swung out and over the ledge of the cliff.
As he let her go.
The wind whistled its high and lonely song in her ears.
She fell away into the oblivion of the storm until she could no longer see the cliff — could no longer see him.
Only the slip of the pink ribbon as it unraveled from her wrist, floating up and away from her and out of sight forever.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“Can I tell you something?" He tilted his head, moving in closer still, so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek. "Do you want to know what my grandma used to say about kisses on the forehead?"
He pressed his lips to her brow, holding the silk soft kiss for a long moment while Isobel stood in place, unable to bring herself to shove him away.
"She told me it’s the kind of kiss we save for the dead.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“As though sensing her heightening alarm, Pinfeathers halted his advance.
"I can’t help it that I’m susceptible to you", he whispered.
"You know that. It’s just that you’re so...unreal...and so I have to touch you. If only to be certain that I’m not the one who’s dreaming. You see, I hear that sort of thing is going around.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed

“I'll keep it," she said. "Then, when you get back, after you and the dark one are done making out and planning a future filled with blond-haired, green-eyed, pigment-challeneged rug rats, I'll bring it over and you can add it to your scrapbook, right before you start cooking me dinner. I like vegetarian lasagna with cottage cheese instead of ricotta."
"Gwen?"
"And don't forget the mushrooms. Garlic bread, too, please. That is, as long as your vampire lover doesn't object."
"I want to say thank you," Isobel said. "For... everything."

"No," Gwen said. "Thank YOU for the delicious dinner. I can almost taste the baklava you and Darth Vader will be making for dessert. Something tells me you're gonna have to look that one up, though.”
― Kelly Creagh, Enshadowed