romance-novels

Romance novels. My guess? She started reading them early. My guess? She started them at a time where they made a huge impression on her and changed her perceptions. She isn__ cocooned, she pays attention and she knows there are no men out there like the men in those books she reads so she prefers being with them than trying to find someone like them which, she thinks, is a fruitless endeavor. That fantasy is far better than any reality and, you know what? She__ right. Men are a pain in the ass and a lot of them are dicks who cause heartbreak. And her, a girl life Faye? Well, she knows she__ the kind of girl men like that will chew up and spit out. So she__ smart and she__ not going to go there.

Samantha, you interest me. I__ like to take you out. Why are you fighting me?

On the contrary, I think making you happy should be taken very seriously.

Cursed is our love, as we long for each other like wounded doves with these feelings we suffocate ...

Remember babe, hurting people hurt people. And that doesn't make it right, and it won't ever make it okay. I just don't want to see you with a hurting someone that hurts people every single day.

From the very first moment I saw you, "Hi." "Hi."My heart has raced with adrenaline. Stomach full of butterflies and one mind hopelessly full of love.

Watch for the digital release of all my romance novels coming soon.

I rewrapped the scarf around my neck, and thought about how excited Jake had been that first winter he was here. Maybe it was just as simple as this: that he'd been up here enough to know that there wasn't anything special about Willow Hill. Including me.

I always say too much when I'm talking to you--- that's one of the problems....

I have never believed in slow deaths; unless already dead, hope keeps everything alive.

Her mother and memory lapses were BFFs.

He stops rocking and looks into my eyes. We__e inches apart and I__ mesmerized by the tiny flecks of indigo in his blue eyes. A girl could drown in those eyes. And it wouldn__ be the worst way to go.

This wasn't her first kiss. He could tell that much, though he doubted any of the young men who'd kissed her had known what the hell they were doing. He felt a vague, stupid sort of rage toward them. It made him all the more resolved to make this kiss sublime. Sufficiently long and slow and sweet and deep to obliterate those embraces from her memory.From this day forward-when she thought of kisses, she would think only of him.

In another minute or two, those men would have tossed your skirts in that alley right there... if you were wearing skirts! You should be thanking me for saving your sorry hide! By my calculations, that__ twice in one day.

The term 'first-love' exists because there always more to count ahead, as pure as the previous one, as true as the one that touched your soul lately.

Love ends abruptly. In fact, this is central to endings of most sort. We just don't admit that.

Would I always look back on this moment with regret, no matter which choice I made?

Nice. Wait--- so, does he know? Does he know he's the only person who's ever flipped your pancake?