Something Fabulous (Something Fabulous, #1)

by Alexis Hall

“I think you will find,” he told her, “that I have chosen to be exactly what I am supposed to be. You, on the other hand, appear to have fashioned yourself entirely from cliché.”

Another arm wave. Valentine was starting to wonder if the entire family spent their lives in front of mirrors performing dramatic poses for an as-yet unrealised audience.

“You can’t do a good deed on the back of small cruelties.”

“Love is not supposed to be convenient, my flower. It is supposed to be transcendent.”

Unfortunately, he was beginning to suspect he might not have a choice in the matter. That choices, in general, were ebbing and flowing with what seemed like quite nauseating unpredictability. Possibility and impossibility, duty and desire, locked in an endless, unbreakable quadrille.

What, after all, was the use of being pleasing to the eye when he had found in himself only an obscure hollowness? A well of waiting and searching and wanting but never finding in which he had drowned a little deeper with every day that passed.

“Passion fades, love changes. But style, Mr. Tarleton, style is forever.”