Here are some quotes from one of my favourite M/M paranormal novels.
‘I was late for my appointment with a dead man.’
‘Before Griffin had come along, I’d been living inside a photograph: just a facsimile of life, without either color or depth.’
“I will not surrender my profession simply because men throughout history have been unduly enamored of their penises!” – Dr Christine Putman
‘The Guardian raced across the hall toward us, running on all fours in a horrible, loping gait neither human nor animal. Its claws scrabbled for purchase on the slick marble tiles of the main hall, which was the only reason it hadn’t yet caught up with us.’
‘It was madness; it was folly; it was sheer selfishness. I was delusional, misguided, wrong, out of control. I needed to pull back, to say something sane, to re-establish mastery over myself. I could not do this. I could not take this risk.
‘Later tonight, I’d relive this moment in my lonely bed and wonder if I’d done the right thing. But at least that would be familiar, would be something I knew how to cope with.
‘And yet the very thought felt like dying.
I surged forward, crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing my lips to his.’
The shadows of the labyrinth-library seemed suddenly deeper. I hurriedly gathered up my things and left the room. The interconnected chambers and oddly-angled halls were lit only by moonlight streaming from the irregular shafts set into the ceiling. My footsteps echoed strangely, almost as if someone followed behind me. I quickened my pace, which only made it worse. By the time I reached the entrance to the library complex, my heart thumped hard enough to make me light-headed, and it was everything I could do not to break into a run. Glad beyond words to be quit of the place, I shut the door behind me, turned, and tripped over the body of the night watchman.’
‘A suffocating cloud of stench rolled out of the open trapdoor: wet fur, mildew, fish slime, and above all the putrescence of rotting flesh. A swarm of horrors boiled out behind it, ever one of them howling like damned souls vomited up from the bowels of Tartarus itself’.
‘Outside, the snow piled up against the windows, but our bed was warm and safe. Holding Griffin against me, I let myself slip away into sated sleep.’
Lynn Flewelling