What mattered most was knowing that love was mine to give, without strings or expectations.

Had she been in town, the two of them would have spent most of the day together, and she didn't want that. Then again, deep down, it was exactly what she wanted, leaving her more confused that she'd been in years.

I don't pray because it doesn't work. Prayer doesn't fix anything. Bad things happen anyway.

That initial anger she had felt turned to sadness, and now it had become something else, almost a dullness of sorts. Even though she was constantly in motion, it seemed as if nothing special ever happened to her anymore. Each day seemed exactly like the last, and she had trouble differentiating among them.

I think our love can do anything we want it to.

If you look for me, I'm in the fiction section. Romance has its own section.

I consider myself foremost a novelist with the intent of crafting stories that people will remember.