Hollow Heathens (Tales of Weeping Hollow, #1)

by Nicole Fiorina

He was all backward, wearing his soul like skin—and his soul was beautiful. Not beautiful like a rose but beautiful like a Black Velvet petunia.

His taste was nocturnal. His touch, an eclipse.

“Lunaticus,” he panted into my mouth. “When the moon has struck you, it’s called lunaticus … and you struck me. Hard.”

“I’ve tried to ignore it, but I can’t. No matter what they say, you were always mine, and you always will be.”

My wretched soul would choose yours in this life and each one hereafter because, without you, I am certain a monster is what would become of me.’

“Every day in this curse is a prison. I’m already in prison, Fallon, but not with you. You have no idea what it’s like, what it’s been like before you got here. With you, I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. And I’d forsake everything and everyone just to be near you, don’t you get it?”

“It happened slowly and then all at once for me, you know.” My back fell against the stone wall of the tunnel. “The way I feel about you, it runs deep—an unheard of deep, blue thing. So blue, it’s black like the color of a ravens wing … In an ocean beneath an ocean on top of another ocean. Where you don’t know which way is up or down. No shallows, no bottom. That’s how deep, and it scares me sometimes. But then you’re there too, and we’re floating together in that deep place. And it’s peaceful there … quiet.”