Delphine Dryden

“In the National Geographic movie of my twisted mind, the lion had just leaped on the gazelle, pinned it to the ground and mounted it from behind. Apparently, the devouring could wait. I should point out that these little flights of fancy on my part often involved extremely improbable animal pairings. I blamed cartoons.”

“In the fantasy I spun for myself that night before falling asleep, those deep dark secrets were revealed. That simple touch became a violent embrace, worthy of any bodice-ripper. There were a certain number of gleeful perversions committed on Ivan's battered leather sofa. And at some point in the fantasy, Ivan was a vampire, because I was sort of weird that way. He was a real, Gothic-style, Bram Stoker sort of vampire who bit people as a metaphor for having dubious-consent, alpha-male sex with them, I should point out. None of your modern, sensitive vampires for me. I appreciated the classics.”

“Camilla, you…my God,” he whispered against my skin, his voice sounding oddly strained. “Sweetheart, do you even know? You’re so perfect and you don’t even realize.”The endearment seeped into me like a touch, warming me as much as his body did. “Did I say a good thing, Professor?”“Oh, you said an amazing thing. Tonight I’m going to make very, very sure you know how much it means to me.”

“Sense memories of you persist and do not seem to abate as the day progresses. It’s disconcerting, Camilla. I don’t like it when my mind plays tricks on me. I would much rather simply have you here in the flesh, to feel and taste and smell with my actual senses. Instead my mind keeps conjuring this false perception of your presence. I think it means I miss you.”

“Two arguing geeks were stoppable. Three arguing geeks created an infinite argument vortex of doom that sucked time down like a black hole.”