Not You It's Me (Boston Love, #1)

by Julie Johnson

I’m officially giving up men, buying several vibrators, and joining a convent.

Because, I mean, if he’s anything like the rest of the male population, the prince is probably stuck in traffic somewhere, or got lost along the way and is too damn stubborn to ask for directions.

See, I have this theory that humans are just living, breathing, talking forms of art, each crafted with a different technique and carved out of different materials. Each beautiful in their own way.

“That is not what you say to a girl after she’s had a tough day. You either say, ‘would you like me to pour you a glass of wine and massage your feet?’ or you say nothing at all!”

if the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, the way to a girl’s is through a good book.

“The past holds pain; the future holds promise.”

“Life is a big, fat mess. There’s no order or reason to most of what’ll happen to you before you turn to dust and fade from memory, and there’s nothing you can do about that. All you can do is find someone who turns that abstract chaos into a work of art… and never let them