A Pessimist's Guide to Love (Heartsong, #2)

by Jennifer Hartmann

“Deceptive Cadence” You think you know what’s coming, but you never really do. And sometimes, when you think something is coming to an end, it’s actually the beginning of something beautiful.

Everyone has demons. Monsters lurking around every corner, whispering in your ear, hiding under your bed, living just beneath your skin.

“Home is something I buried a long time ago,” he tells me, voice cracking with sentiment. A breath passes between us, a drumbeat. And then he whispers, “But I buried it inside you. Just in case I ever wanted to go back.”

“So you do have a toxic trait—knew you were too perfect.”

“God, you’re so fucking sexy on your knees, taking my big dick with that pretty little mouth. Such a good girl. Such a good, sweet girl.”

“Even a tragedy can have a happy ending. Sometimes we just need to write it in ourselves.”

Within the tangled roots of grief, we stand to lose so much. But no one ever acknowledges what we stand to gain. Strength. Perspective. Appreciation. Resilience. Those things are often buried, overpowered by grief’s mighty right hand—suffering. They exist, though. There’s beauty in the breakdown, a glimmer of light hidden in the smoke. And sometimes, every once in a while, if you’re truly lucky… There is love.

I love the spontaneous moments; the ones where Cal sees me, has to have me, and takes me.

No foreplay, no lead-up, just raw, urgent sex.