He wants to pretend this is all accidental, but for me it isn't a game. I haven't simply let it happen. I'm falling because I jumped, and not because I tripped.
Catalog
Megan Hart
Megan Hart is an American author of romantic and erotic novels. Hart became interested in writing after reading the Ray Bradbury short story Homecoming. Moved by this work, she rewrote her own version and began creating stories. She was inspired to write professionally after reading Stephen King's The Stand. After a long break Hart resumed writing in 1998, publishing her first book in 2002. Hart has a degree in journalism from Indiana University of Pennsylvania. She lives in Pennsylvania with her two children and husban
Some people live their entire life and never once feel how I felt every time he looked at me.
We look at each other without saying anything, both of us smiling like idiots. I heart is so full I can’t believe it can possibly still beat without bursting right in front of me. My desire for him is so fierce I’m afraid to stand, because I know my knees will be too weak to hold me up, but there’s…
I’m in love with him, and I think I’ve known that for a long time, but now I can’t stop myself from admitting it. I love the way he dances for me, trying to make me laugh, not caring if he looks a little like a fool. He is adorable and charming, and the breath leaves my lungs and my heart forgets to…
Love is always real, even when it doesn’t last.
It was a kiss perfect in length and pressure and emotion, but unlike in the movies it didn’t make everything all better.
There’s no foreplay quite like youthful exploration, when each undone button is cause for exaltation.
Love, when it goes, can sometimes burn to ash. And sometimes it can leave nothing.
When you love someone, seeing them in pain can be harder than being in pain yourself.
Individually there were things we lacked, but together we were perfect.
I didn’t fall in love with James. Falling sounds like an accident. Falling hurts. I’d fallen in love with Michael, fallen hard like slipping off a cliff and hitting the rocks below. Falling in love was something I’d vowed never to do again. I chose to love James.
There had been times when missing him had felt like someone had reached inside her and pulled out the part of her that remembered how to breathe. And times when she’d barely given the memories of him a second’s worth of her time.
There is nothing crueler than the person who doesn’t want you enough to keep you, but who doesn’t love you enough to let you go.
And every time we’re together, I tell myself not to hope that this time you’ll just fucking see that there is nobody else for you. That you’ll give me a chance to prove we’re good together.
It’s easy to love someone when they’re all you know.
I would rather have you haunt me, driving me mad, than have you leave me.
That was the thing about love, though, wasn’t it? When you loved somebody, you wanted to give them everything you could. You wanted what was best for them, no matter what. You wanted them to move beyond what was awful and terrible, beyond anything that had ever hurt them.
People are complicated, and they hurt each other. Effie Linton had known this for a long time, just as she knew that sometimes those wounds were inflicted deliberately, over and over, and not with fists or weapons. Sometimes, they did it with love.