A Novel Way to Die (Nevermore Bookshop Mysteries, #6)

by Steffanie Holmes

My love is poison. I won’t taint you with that the way I’ve been tainted.”

“It’s the greatest honor of my life to love and to be loved by you. I love you the way a writer loves a story that refuses to fall from their fingers – I love you because you’re infuriating and precious and always just out of reach. I don’t want you to save me from loving you. I want to throw myself into your fire and burn up inside it. And it’s because I love you that what you’re doing hurts—”

Don’t concern yourself with the skin and organs and gristle until you’ve got the bones in the right places first.”

Sometimes, life doesn’t give you the happily ever after. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make a tragedy into something beautiful.

Stories are what connect us, shape us, bring us into existence and snuff us from history.” Dante gestured around him at the vastness of the plains. “The reality of this, and what’s beyond all this, is too complex for the human mind to conceive. But stories give form to the universe, order to the chaos, substance to the unknown. Stories give us beginnings and middles and endings. Stories take our base instincts and weave love and heartache and redemption and pleasure and forgiveness into every word, until we believe ourselves to be essential to the plot rather than being swept along by it.