The end of a wedding reception is always so depressing. And only the bride and groom are spared, jetting off into the sunset while the rest of us wake up the next morning to just another day.

With love like that, you can't get pick about how it finds you or the details. All that matters is that it's there. Better late than never.

A thump thump thump noise that was so unfamiliar, and yet I couldn't quite place it. But I knew it. It was - "Mmm-hmmm," Monica murmured, just as Wes came view into the path. He was running, his pace quick and steady. He was in shorts, his shirt off, staring ahead as he passed. His back was tan and gleaming with sweat.

I don't talk about my books while I'm writing them: not even my husband knows what a novel's about until it's done.

People don't change. If anything, you get more set in your ways as you get older, not less

I think when you're a beginning author with any publishing company, there's only so much they can put behind you.

Because it is so hard, in any life, to believe in what you can’t fully understand.