“Willy - red and shining, his spectacles bemisted, voice glutinous, alcohol sweating from every pore - had sung what he called an old English madrigal in his harsh, thick Scots; at the end he had walloped down, like a porpoise stranded by the tide, on the sofa where Mary sat, and given her a succulent porpoiseful kiss on the nape of the neck. It had been a good turn and everybody had laughed.” DrinkMaryMadrigalScottish RenaissancePorpoiseWilly Gibb Book:Chapman 47-48: Tom Scott / Ann Scott-Moncrieff Source: Chapman 47-48: Tom Scott / Ann Scott-Moncrieff
“She may have been the one whose name meant music, but his sounded like it. Saying it made her want to sing it, to lean out a window and call him home. To whisper it in the dark.” FantasyLaini TaylorAkivaDaughter Of Smoke And BoneMadrigal Book:Daughter of Smoke & Bone Source: Daughter of Smoke & Bone
“She experienced a queer collision of reactions these days. Karou's were foremost, and the most immediate, but Madrigal's were hers, too: her two selves, coming together with a strange kind of vibration. It's wasn't disharmony, exactly.” KarouMadrigal Book:Days of Blood & Starlight Source: Days of Blood & Starlight
“Nwella came up with a silver bowl and a big soft brush, and before Madrigal knew what was happening Nwella had dusted her chest, neck, and shoulders with something that glittered. “What—?” “Sugar,” she said, giggling. “Nwella!” Madrigal tried to brush it off, but it was dust-fine and it clung: sugar powder, which girls wore when they planned to be tasted. If her rose petal lips and naked back were not enough invitation to Thiago, Madrigal thought, this certainly was. Its telltale shimmer might as well have been a sign that said LICK ME.” SugarKarouDaughter Of Smoke And BoneMadrigalLick Me Author:Laini Taylor