...Bananach sits on your throne, has declared herself Dark Queen." "She WHAT!?" Niall- or perhaps Irial-asked.

Writing is not just the technical act of your fingers on the keyboard. Writing is living.

I told them he'd be able to get you to go out." Rianne folded her winnings and tucked the bills into her blazer pocket. "Look at him." "He's right here, Ri," Carla murmured, shooting Keenan an apologetic look. "We've tried to teach her manners, but..." She shrugged. "It's like housebreaking a dog. If we'd had her when she was a puppy, maybe." Rianne smacked her on the arm, but she was grinning. "Woof, woof.

As a lifelong romance reader, its always satisfying to get to talk to other romance readers!

It wasn't the tattoo that had changed her, had given her repossession of her body. It was her actions, her choices. It was finding the path when it looked like there weren't any paths to be found.

Have you ever tried?" "No." Then don't tell me I can't.

Good night, Seth." "So you're running again, then?" One of his boots thudded on the floor. "I'm not running." The other boot hit the floor. "Really?" "Really. It's just—" She stopped; she didn't have anything that would finish that sentence and be honest. "Maybe you should slow down, so I can catch you." He paused, waiting.