Love you too Chess. You got that aye? Ain't you know it? Love you right, till it hurts. Ain't going nowhere…………
Stacia KaneSo she took a deep breath, glad she wasn’t speeding so much anymore, glad she could look him in the eyes and really feel it. “Even if it’s not what you want, I’m yours.” Now she did see the change in him, saw the slow smile start, the one that always made her feel so good because she could make it appear. “Always want you, Chessiebomb. Always.
Stacia KaneMots clés love
Now mayhap you quit givin Terrible the fuckin slurpy-eyes an give Bump the listening, yay? Thinkin you can? Gots some fuckin chattering wants doin, needs you fuckin head on straight up.
Stacia KaneMots clés chess terrible downside-ghosts bump
His hands on the sides of her face, on her neck, holding her there. "Chessie...shit, Chessie, I love you so bad." His teeth on her throat, biting hard, his lips soothing the spot. "So fucking much, so...so bad.
Stacia KaneMots clés chess terrible downside-ghosts
But then, anyone was capable of any manner of atrocities if they wanted something bad enough. People could justify anything to themselves if they wanted it bad enough. No one was immune to that.
Stacia KaneMots clés people human-nature
Funny how addiction was socially acceptable—even a status symbol—when it made people extroverts rather than introverts
Stacia KaneMots clés people human-nature
Love was full of secrets. Love masked so many evils. Love controlled people, it liked to them, it made them believe things that weren’t true and it hid the truth from them. People said love was blind, but what they meant was that love blinded them. It made them more vulnerable than anything else could.
And it felt so fucking good.
He kissed her, slow and tender, like she mattered. Because she did, at least to him. And she thought she might even be able to believe it.
Stacia KaneYes, Lex was her friend. Yes, she wanted to help him out. But Terrible … he wasn’t her friend, he was her life.
Stacia KaneFiction may be about lying – on the surface, anyway – but fiction is about hiding the truth behind those lies. It's about using those lies to say something true and real. It's about showing the reader something. It's about making them feel.
And how we do that as authors is to put ourselves into our work, and make it mean something to us, so that it will mean something to the reader. That's what we should do. That's our job.
Mots clés truth lying readers-and-writers
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