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9a5e647
|
Don't play his game. Play yours.
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|
domestic-violence
claire-danvers
surviving
morganville-vampires
stalker
survival
stalking
|
Rachel Caine |
|
e8d5948
|
There are vampires. They are real, they are of our time, and they are here, close by, stalking us as we sleep...
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|
sleep
dracula
real
stalking
vampires
|
Nicky Raven |
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9c2399f
|
What are you going to do? Are you going to live in the dark, locked in here? Afraid to look out, answer the door, leave? Yes, he's out there, and he's clearly not going to leave you alone until one of three things happens: he hurts you and gets arrested, or he makes a mistake and gets arrested, or you stop him.
|
|
domestic-violence
stalkers
claire-danvers
morganville-vampires
stalker
stalking
|
Rachel Caine |
|
e221e42
|
Oh, I forgot to mention it: My brother is the kind of man whom women stalk. In cooperative packs.
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|
handsome
incubus
stalking
vampire
|
Jim Butcher |
|
c4ceedd
|
I was deluded, and I knew it. Worse: my love for Pippa was muddied-up below the waterline with my mother, with my mother's death, with losing my mother and not being able to get her back. All that blind, infantile hunger to save and be saved, to repeat the past and make it different, had somehow attached itself, ravenously, to her. There was an instability in it, a sickness. I was seeing things that weren't there. I was only one step away from some trailer park loner stalking a girl he'd spotted in the mall. For the truth of it was: Pippa and I saw each other maybe twice a year; we e-mailed and texted, though with no great regularity; when she was in town we loaned each other books and went to the movies; we were friends; nothing more. My hopes for a relationship with her were wholly unreal, whereas my ongoing misery, and frustration, were an all-too-horrible reality. Was groundless, hopeless, unrequited obsession any way to waste the rest of my life?
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|
grief
loss
relationship
reality
past
hope
delusional
delusional-love
unreal
loner
delusion
save
hunger
stalking
misery
hopeless
frustration
obsession
waste
unrequited-love
sickness
|
Donna Tartt |
|
1acd101
|
She had started driving past his apartment to see whether or not his car was out front. She had looked up his phone number, and twice she had called his apartment from the pay phone in school, knowing he wouldn't be at home, just so she could hear how sexy his voice sounded on his answering machine. Was this what falling in love was supposed to feel like?
|
|
sweet-valley
unbalanced
stalking
|
Francine Pascal |
|
8e6ad40
|
"I didn't look over my shoulder; there wasn't a sound behind me on the pavement, but I knew he was coming slowly after me. The crawl of the skin up and down my back told me. Little needles of warning that gathered at the back of my skull told me. I'd never known until then that the jungles aren't so very far behind us, after all, and tails, and four feet instead of two. Where else did those symptoms come from? ("Don't Wait Up For Me, Tonight")"
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|
stalking
suspense
|
Cornell Woolrich |