“My mom is having a Scentsy party tomorrow," he said."The scented-wax thingies? Random. But go on."He laced his fingers together on his lap. "I was thinking... I know how much you love to smell things."I nodded. I could spend hours in a candle store sticking my nose inside every jar. "True. I do love to smell.""Well, instead of going on your suicide mission, you could just come to the party. We could go smell crazy and even sneak a few of my mom's JELL-O shots. Eh?" He poked a finger in my ribs. "Epic, right?”

“I loved every part of him. The smell of his skin, the scar on his cheek, the feel of his fingers pressing into my back. The way he could tell what I was thinking just by looking at me.”

“He leaned forward then and put his face in the crook of my neck, so he could smell the warmth rising from it. His nose touched my skin, just enough to make me shiver.When he spoke again, it was right next to my ear, and his voice was deep, and his breath moved the fine hairs on my ear, starting a vibration deep within my eardrum. “But that smell, right there,” He murmured, “That smell is all you. I love that smell too. I want to wear that smell on my skin and roll around in it. I want to live in that smell alone."--Wounded(Bracken to Cory)”

“As soon as we were inside, Edwart's family rushed to greet me. What seemed like thirty people circled me, chattering away. "Oh my god, you smell good.""Good smell, good smell.""(she really does smell good.)""do you mind if I put my nose right on you? Right on your arm?""More smelly smelly please.""If I could destroy every part of my brain except the part that smelled your smell, I would do it. I would do it in a second.""Let's go, Belle," Edwart whispered and grabbed my hand. We pushed through the ravenous vampires nad out the front door."So that went well!" I said outside in the U-HAUL. I sniffed my hair. I did smell good."No, no, that wasn't my house," Edwart said, starting the truck. "I don't even know those people! Sometimes I get addresses confused.”

“He was in my hair, my eyes, my fingers, my heart. I day-dreamed about what he was doing, thinking, seeing, smelling, feeling. I could not eat for thoughts of him.”

“If I had nostrils on my index fingers, I wonder what the inside of my nose would smell like?”