i am... absolutely destroyed at the loss. (--manny)

Please, if you would," the butler said, "no throwing the linens. Peaches, anyone?" -Fritz

If sex were food, Rhage would have been morbidly obese.

She is more beautiful than I have words for. And last night, I was blessed beyond measure to serve her.

Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God's sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He'd read that book, seen the movie, bought the soundtrack, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider's guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key. But just as he was aware of all that aligned them, he was even clearer on how they were damned to be ever apart.

Otherwise, three little words would have leaked from his mouth. And undoubtedly doomed him in ways he couldn’t even guess at. Bad time. Bad place. For that kind of thing. Forever.

Neither said anything while they embraced. Sometimes words didn't go far enough, the vessels of letters and the ladles of grammar incapable of holding the heart's sentiments.