Kelly Creagh Quotes & Sayings

His voice ripped through her, low, soft, and a little husky- like the hushed crackling of an old fashioned record player just before the music starts — Kelly Creagh

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

So, you let me get through that whole spiel, my entire tirade, but weren't going to let me have the dramatic walkaway, were you? — Kelly Creagh

You were dropped as a child, weren't you?" Varen asked her.
"Maybe once or twice," Gwen said, "but at least I wasn't raised by highly literate vampires who, every night just before bed, fed me a steady diet of dark sarcasm and gothic horror fiction."
"Every morning before bed," Varen corrected. Stepping forward, he moved toward the headstone. "We slept during the day. — Kelly Creagh

And if you ruin it I own your soul. — Kelly Creagh

Isobel moved farther into the kitchen, not knowing whether to be relieved that her mother hadn't had an atomic meltdown, or mortified that she'd taken it upon herself to play head chef with the nearest thing Trenton High had to a Dark Lord. — Kelly Creagh

She had just enough time to take in a breath, to blink, to part her lips before he took them with his own. — Kelly Creagh

Isobel looked down at her lap, at her hands. She turned her left one over, remembering where Varen had written his number on her that first time. Those numbers were gone now, but in hindsight, he may as well have tattooed the moment onto her soul. — Kelly Creagh

And keep a watch out at the garage door, because you'll be back by the stroke of seven thirty and in time for dinner or else you'll turn back into an alien and be deported to your home planet. — Kelly Creagh

You're a dream. Like everything else. — Kelly Creagh

As much as he was different from other guys, he still had that stupid male pride thing. — Kelly Creagh

Lady Ligeia," he began again, "is a woman in the literature who returns from the dead, taking over another woman's body to be with her true love."
"Oh, yes. Lovely" Isobel blanched. "I guess the other chick didn't mind at all? — Kelly Creagh

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

No," said her dad, starting to shout, "what I can't handle is you being dropped off after midnight by some kid who thinks he's a vampire!"
"And now you're dating a vampire?" Danny asked, intrigued. "You know they bite right?"
...
"How can he be a vampire when he knows so much about slayers? — Kelly Creagh

Isobel watched as Varen's head turned slowly toward her father. She couldn't exactly tell with the sunglasses, but she somehow knew that he had to be staring down the false Poe with one of his most penetrating "you are the essence of lameness" expressions. — Kelly Creagh

You can touch me, but you can't hurt me. — Kelly Creagh

It was here that Isobel first felt the twinge of an inward pull on her mind. Slowly the words started to get out of the way and let images of courtiers revolve, in slow motion, through her mind's eye. It was as though she had somehow adapted to the density of the language. Soon the words smudged away from the page, and in their place, she was left with the sensation of gliding through the scene, like she'd become a movie camera, sweeping through the sets of rooms and over the heads of costumed actors. — Kelly Creagh

A tiny sound of alarm escaped her. She pulled back. He gripped her, though, and pulled her to him. Did he think that she might slip through his arms or vanish? Or was his fear that he might? He raised both hands to cup her face, to hold her lips against his own. It was as though the moment was a stolen one, as though every second counted, as though this first kiss was doomed to be their last. — Kelly Creagh

I'll come back to get you, too, okay?"
"Why?" he snapped.
"Because," she said with a gasp, unable to fathom the source of his question, or his tone. "Because I love you, that's why. — Kelly Creagh

Danny, give me the phone." Isobel thrust her hand out for the receiver. "And you can forget the five bucks."
"I was gonna charge you three-fifty anyway," he said, holding the phone just out of reach. "He knew he hadn't dialed the wrong number, so I had to tell him you were on the crapper. — Kelly Creagh

Gwen," he said in acknowledgement.
"Your darkness-ship," she returned with a bow. — Kelly Creagh

Isobel's face burned. Her skin tingled where he'd touched her, with an almost imperceptible electricity that she couldn't be sure if she was imagining. Like the tips of her fingers had somehow fallen asleep. — Kelly Creagh

She glanced down at the contents of her plate. Just tell him what it is. Simple. Look at it and say what it is. "Sloppy Joe," she managed.
"Hmm," he said, sounding doubtful. "May he rest in peace. — Kelly Creagh

So." [Isobel] cleared her throat. "What are we doing?"
"We," [Varen] said at last, "are doing a project on Poe."
"Didn't he marry his cousin or something?"
"The man is a literary god and that's all you have to say? — Kelly Creagh

Holy granola. He's coming over here. — Kelly Creagh

Hands quivering, she reached toward him. "Don't." He turned his back to her, facing the door. That word had stopped her once before. But not now. Not now that she had glimpsed through the funeral front of Varen's own eternal Grim Facade. Despite all the dark armor, the kohl eye liner, the black boots and chains, she saw him clearly now. She peered through the curtain of that cruel calmness, through the death stare and the vampire sentiments and angst and, behind it all, had found true beauty. — Kelly Creagh

Why did he have to be so ... so ... — Kelly Creagh

What can I say?" Poe muttered. "Chicks dig the mustache. — Kelly Creagh

He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes, She had just enough time to take in a breath, to blink, to part her lips before he took them with his own.
Time froze. Her heart ceased to beat. Her eyes fluttered shut.
The cool slip of the small metal loop pressed into her skin as he kissed her.
Urgent.
Gentle.
So slow.
Sweet, soft demolition.
He tasted of cloves and coffee. And of something else. A farawat essence, familiar and yet somehow foreign, too. Something sere and arid.
A little like some.
A little like decay
Ash. — Kelly Creagh

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

You, strange puzzle of a girl, are very lucky. — Kelly Creagh

She stood in the mist, waiting for him again.
Always in the same place. — Kelly Creagh

They know you lied. — Kelly Creagh

The pain in her body came first, an intense surge of fire that raged like lava through her veins.
But it could not compare with what followed after.
A wail rose up from her depths. It left her as an inhuman cry.
Finally, she remembered everything. — Kelly Creagh

Whoa," Danny said, taken aback, "You broke up with Meathead? — Kelly Creagh

Oh, sure. Let me just ask my geek brother to stop slaying zombie ninjas for a few hours so I can borrow the PC and catch up on my Victorian horror lit. — Kelly Creagh

He brushed his thumb across her lips. I guess you're not as easy to forget as we'd hoped. — Kelly Creagh

She looked up from the tag. "Uh, news flash. Your friends hate me."
"They don't know you," he said. Opening his door, he climbed out. He turned back, though, and leaned in on the door frame, peering at her. "Besides," he said, "you'd be with me. — Kelly Creagh

Death always wins. — Kelly Creagh

You never give up, even when you should. — Kelly Creagh

You need to just drop dead, okay? — Kelly Creagh

Is it also true that you drank to excess?" Isobel asked, flipping to the next index card.
Poe scoffed at the question, his response simply "Nyeh."
Varen's head snapped so quickly toward her father that Isobel was surprised the sunglasses hadn't flown off.
"Well, sometimes," Poe corrected himself. Shifting, he stooped in his seat.
Varen's stare remained.
"Often," Poe growled, angling away, pulling his already tight jacket around himself even tighter. — Kelly Creagh

In love. In love with the stoic, the sullen, the eternally morose Varen Nethers?
He would never allow it. — Kelly Creagh

Her fingertips reached to trace the damage, but he grasped her hand with his own. He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes. — Kelly Creagh

At last he stopped, and she stared down at the printed column of words, unable to comprehend a single one. His hand, warm and steady, wound its way around hers, wrapping it like a spider would its prey. She surrendered it to him, unable to watch even as his thumb traced the place, just above her knuckles, where he had once written his number in deep violet. Isobel ceased to breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts shattering into senseless fragments. All the while, her eyes remained trained and unblinking on the open page. Lines without meaning stared up at her, little more than black sticks in an otherwise white world. — Kelly Creagh

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

Isobel, this was the only way I knew how to reach you. After tonight it will all go away. I never meant for you to be pulled into any of this-ever. Please believe that. Somehow I've lost control of everything. I only wish I could see you again. I wish I could tell you everything that I couldn't before. Most of all, I wish there was a way we could start over. Whatever happens now, please believe that I didn't mean for it to end this way. Yours always. - V — Kelly Creagh

She'd never seen a boy with hands like that, with long, delicate fingers, beautiful but still masculine. His fingernails were long too, almost crystalline, tapered to points. They were the kind of hands you'd expect to see under lace cuffs, like Mozart or something. — Kelly Creagh

It is naught but pain and regret when we think of the things and people we will never have, the opportunities we may never get. — Kelly Creagh

Painted faces laughed. It was like a mad carnival where everyone was oblivious, lost in the bliss of chaos, a throng unaware of a bomb planted beneath the
floorboards. — Kelly Creagh

That a single kiss from a boy who knew how to walk through dreams, who himself now seemed to be a dream, hadn't irrevocably altered her. — Kelly Creagh

Why the snap-crackle-pop didn't you call me? — Kelly Creagh

Please," she murmured at her burger, her voice no more than a squeaky whisper, "Don't do this. — Kelly Creagh

A glance toward her digital clock showed the numbers twitching and randomly changing on their own, as though her clock couldn't make up its mind on what time it wanted to be. — Kelly Creagh

There is always that fine line between doing what we want and doing what we're told. — Kelly Creagh

You think you're different." Her voice wavered, and she hated sounding so weak. "You think you're all so different," she went on, louder this time. "You do everything to be different," she spat. The silence of the table -of the whole cafeteria- was reclaimed in an instant. "But you're not," she said at last. "You are just like every. Body. Else — Kelly Creagh

Much like books, she could tell how voiceless things had provided a brand of companionship more compatible to his nature than human friendship had ever been. These things, locked in their inanimate ways, fed him ideas, she thought. They whispered their tales to him through unmoving lips and he listened, opening himself to their world so much more than any normal passerby. That much was evident in the way he'd taken the photos, as if he'd caught each soulless thing in a candid moment of secret animation. Like they'd sensed him coming and so turned themselves his way because they knew that he held the power to translate their silence into words. — Kelly Creagh

Why couldn't she just come out and say she liked him?
Maybe it was because she more than liked him. — Kelly Creagh

She'd never been kissed like that before - like the shell of her soul had evaporated. — Kelly Creagh

In some way, he had belonged to the deepest essence of Varen's being. All the broken pieces of himself that Varen had buried, all those bits that terrified his own mind, all accumulated into one beast, a deranged creature born out of everything he knew he wasn't supposed to do or feel. An entity made of desires and emotions and all the longings Varen could never admit to anyone - not even himself. — Kelly Creagh

To Madeline,
This subtle second self
Sheaf of me
Can do more than you ever could.
Like you, it can leave
And go
Somewhere else.
The night splits me in two.
I disconnect
To sink, to fall, to fly
And rage
Forever
And always
Without you — Kelly Creagh

Words, Isobel, have always held the dangerous power to conjure things into being. Remember that. — Kelly Creagh

Dreaming aside," he went on, "how can you be so sure your world is the real one? — Kelly Creagh

But, Isobel thought with a bleak and sad smile, what better place to bury what was dead than in a cemetery? — Kelly Creagh

She could just hear her little brother asking all sorts of stupid questions, like if his underwear was black too. — Kelly Creagh

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

Dancers churned around them like storm tossed flowers, their heads held to either side as they whirled with abandonment.
"Look at them," he whispered, his voice in her ear. "Have you ever seen anything like it? They have everything, don't they? Everything except a single care to dwell on. — Kelly Creagh

My beautiful, my Isobel. My Love. You ask me to wait. And so I wait.
For all of this, I know, is but a dream.
And when, in sleep, at last we wake,
I will see you again. — Kelly Creagh

Just because I live in the sunlight, enjoy being blond, and wear a cheerleading uniform, that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I'm so sick of that. — Kelly Creagh

As if. You so got it for him. I mean, can we say, 'Uhm, urh, durh, Sloppy Joe'? Psh. Please. Can't hide it from me. — Kelly Creagh

Demons ... they don't just waltz into your life and take over for no reason," she said, her voice going soft again. "They might knock on the door, but ultimately, you have to be the one to invite them in. — Kelly Creagh

She edged away from him, trying to put a greater distance between herself and Creepy McCreeperson. She bent down, careful not to let her eyes leave him, and plucked up a hairbrush from where it had fallen on her floor. She held it at arm's length in front of herself, a stupid weapon feeling better than no weapon at all. At the very least, she could give him style. — Kelly Creagh

Memories, they are the cobwebs of the mind.You can try and sweep them away, but it seems as if some trace always remains.. — Kelly Creagh

Isobel's heart crashed against the cage of her chest, beating against his. — Kelly Creagh

He could be so cynical. So dry and acidic. As blank as a page. Could he be tender, too? — Kelly Creagh

Besides," Gwen added, fluffing the dress folds, "this thing took forever, so you're wearing it."
"Wait you made this?" Isobel asked, distracted.
"Altered it," she admitted. She shrugged. "Half off at the Nearly New Shop. By the way, you owe me twenty-five dollars. — Kelly Creagh

I told you you'd come," said a nearby voice, one Isobel knew well. "You said you would."
( ... )
"You shouldn't have, though," he said, and looked up, his face twisted with anger. "Even if we knew you would, you shouldn't have." He got up and began moving toward her.
"Why," he growled, "when we will only show you we are not worth it? Why, when we have no other choice but to prove to you we're not worth it? — Kelly Creagh

Words ... have always held the dangerous power to conjure things into being. — Kelly Creagh

He was horrible and fascinating all at once, like a scorpion prepared to strike, all angles and sharp lines and menace. — Kelly Creagh

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

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

You yourself could be nothing more than a shadow, someone else's dream who is, themselves, someone else's. — Kelly Creagh

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

Wasn't he the one who sliced off his ear and mailed it to his girlfriend?"
"Van Gogh," said Varen, in a monotone that suggested he might be in pain.
"Van Gogh," Gwen said, leaning away, waving the apple. "Edgar Allan Poe. Close enough! — Kelly Creagh

She is the harbinger of nightmares as well as death, destruction, and insanity. Said to reign in an alternate dimension, a bleak and desertlike twilight version of reality, Lilith has long been hailed as the queen of mental darkness. — Kelly Creagh

Don't let the elegance act fool you," Varen said, drawing out his notepad. "She farts. — Kelly Creagh

The more this guy talked, the more he sounded like a fortune cookie. — Kelly Creagh

You can't understand us. We don't even understand ourselves. — Kelly Creagh

Just because I wear black and keep a private journal, that doesn't mean I'm going to blow up the school. Or terrorize mindless cheerleaders, for that matter. — Kelly Creagh

His eyes remained on Isobel as he began a slow backward walk. He was doing it again, speaking to her with his eyes. She remained trapped in his stare, trying to hear him, to read the underlying message. Finally his gaze broke from hers and he turned away, walking off through the cafeteria doors.
There was a pause before Gwen spoke. "Let me guess," she said. "Right now, you're trying to decide if that was hot or annoying." She paused, as though formulating her own opinion ... "It was so totally hot. — Kelly Creagh

Yeah, well, I tried to explain that my mind powers don't work on Tuesdays. — Kelly Creagh

A tall, thin boy with choppy black hair stood next to her. He eyed Isobel as she approached, sizing her up, grinning like he found something funny. She glared at him in return, ready for him to say just one thing about her cheer uniform, because she knew he must have pulled the black jeans he wore straight from the girls' rack at Target. — Kelly Creagh

He turned his head and caught her with his eyes. She froze, locked by the intensity of his stare. His eyes were stark and cold, the concentrated green of pale jade. Outlined in smudged black kohl, those eyes focused on her, unblinking through the feathery strands of his jet black hair, and it was like being watched through a cage by a complacent and calculating cat.
Discomfort welled in her, thick and black as an oil spring. Who was this guy and what was his royal problem? Her gaze flicked briefly to the small metal loop that hugged one corner of his bottom lip.
He blinked once, then slowly lifted one hand and crooked a beckoning finger at her. Isobel hesitated but then as though spellbound to obey, she found herself leaning in.
"What are you staring at?" he whispered. — Kelly Creagh

If they failed the project - when they failed the project - the book would give her one last excuse to see him. To tell him everything, she thought, letting her eyes slide closed. Everything she should have said already. She'd spit it all out, regardless of who was around to hear it. She'd tell him how she couldn't stop thinking about him, how she just wanted to be near him. She'd do the unspeakable. She'd let her hands slide inside his jacket and her arms slip around him. — Kelly Creagh

She felt him pull her to him. His voice, acidic and sharp, buzzed in her ear. Soon ... I'll be all that's left. — Kelly Creagh

When there is no way, you must make a way. — Kelly Creagh

Yesterday, she began, speaking to his back, hurrying as though there was some element of him that was part hourglass. — Kelly Creagh

She never answered. She couldn't. All she could do was stare, reaching toward him with her gaze alone, pulling him to drown in the sorrow of those depthless black pools. — Kelly Creagh

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

Learn to awaken within your dreams, Isobel. — Kelly Creagh