Thog's Masterclass. Literal Dept. 'She literally flowed with stories and spunk.' (Brad Torgersen, 'Outbound', Analog 11/2010) [NW]
Eyeballs in the Sky. 'Her eyes felt lost and confused ...' (James Rollins, Sandstorm, 2004) [MCN]
'Her eyes were like a condor's, or some worse star-spawned bird of prey, crimson edged and bleeding into blank holes at the center that seemed to be pinpoint windows into her diseased soul. Kullervo thought he saw things crawling around behind those windows.' (Emil Petaja, Tramontane, 1967)
Special 300th-Issue Technothriller Bons Mots Dept. 'He knew that he ought to have prepared his speech better ... but the tension within his intestine had proved too much.'
'In the two weeks since Helena's note had arrived he had stopped sleeping and begun waking in dreams.'
'... the door opened to find their quarry at his elbows on the desk, his face enveloping his hands.'
'Hartmann too smiled but it was not a creature of grace; it skitted, like a new-born faun and, in similar fashion, fell down completely before another second had died.'
'He swallowed and smiled at the same time; perhaps, he at once realized, a mistake.'
'The smell of cigarette smoke suffused directly into his stomach lining and into his strobing brain.'
'... the telephone call from the Coroner had also caused a distinct rise in his anal sphincter tone ...'
'That Eisenmenger found the look on her face odd would be untrue; he found it worrying. She looked as if she had appendicitis.'
'Which made the slap when it came all the more unexpected and all the more painful. It rang in his ears and made the mast cells in his skin explode with unpleasant substances.'
'Eisenmenger could feel the atmosphere [between the two women] beginning to reek with noxious gases.'
'Through the pain she tried to ignore the nihilism of the thought, finding it seditionist.'
'Where do you put a virus?'
'She knew more about the inside of a Turkish wrestler's underpants than she did about virology ...'
'She bent down again, profaned against her back, and pulled.'
'He picked up his coat from the back of the sofa and moved to the door, feeling distinctly like an ambulant and green soft fruit.' (all Keith McCarthy, The Silent Sleep of the Dying, 2004) [PB]