Feversong (Fever, #9)

by Karen Marie Moning

And I told him I always thought he had the most incredible eyes, to which he replied he has a lot of incredible parts and I was welcome to check them out anytime I wanted.

Snort

“Better a bad day in Hell than no days at all,”

I took her hand and, as we walked from the cemetery, I didn’t glance back at his grave. Dancer wasn’t there. I know a funny thing about eyes. Where you let them look is where they take you. Look back and you stay stuck in a lost, forever unattainable past. Look forward and you live.