Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)

by Rebecca Ross

But all good things eventually came to an end. And all songs had a final verse.

How utterly sobering it was, then, to realize how seldom daydreams like that aligned with reality.

“If my words have bewitched your son, then know that his possess the same magic for me,” she said, reflexively touching her wedding band again.

There was a right and wrong answer, and Roman hesitated, torn between the typewriter that had reminded him of his name and the one that reminded him that he was alive.

do we live by our past, or do we live by what is to come? Do we choose to waste time looking behind to things that have already happened and cannot be changed, or do we keep our sight forward on what we can see?”

The magic still gathers, and the past is gilded; I see the beauty in what has been but only because I have tasted both sorrow and joy in equal measures.

You may not be a goddess, but nor am I a god. Despite our mundane lives, perhaps we make our own magic with words.

I must remind myself that sometimes we write for ourselves and sometimes we write for others. And sometimes those lines blur when we least expect them to. Whenever such happened in my past … I remember that I have only been strengthened by it.

“It reminded me that I cannot hold those I love in a cage, even if it feels like protecting them.”

The problem is … I want to hear from you at all hours. I want to read your words. I am greedy for them. I am hungry for them.

Let me be your secret, then. Tuck my words into your pocket. Let them be your armor.