The New York Times Bestseller, Beyond Me, captured reader's hearts. Now the stunning story of Quinn and James continues... It was supposed to be a love story.... I knew she was out of my league but I didnāt care. Looking back, I wonder if I hadnāt pursued her, would things have turned out differently? Is it Fate that determines our choices in life? God? Free will? Or just plain old innate selfishness?
I got her, of course. There hadnāt been a girl I wasnāt able to seduce. Problem was she seduced me right back, body, mind, and soul. She possessed me, tormented me, and showed me a world that was so bright and pure I was almost blinded.
Didnāt she know after such a drug I could never settle for less? Didnāt she realize no matter how many times I screwed up, or broke her heart, or bent her to my will, Iād never be able to let her go?
If I hadnāt known such intensity existed, would it have been better for both of us?
True love, the real kind, isnāt nice and sweet and pure. No, itās dirty, and sinful, and messy. Itās like ripping a chunk of flesh from your body and watching yourself bleed out in slow, helpless intervals until you thankfully pass out.
This isnāt a love story. But itās the only story I got.
The New York Times Bestseller, Beyond Me, captured reader's hearts. Now the stunning story of Quinn and James continues... It was supposed to be a love story.... I knew she was out of my league but I didnāt care. Looking back, I wonder if I hadnāt pursued her, would things have turned out differently? Is it Fate that determines our choices in life? God? Free will? Or just plain old innate selfishness?
I got her, of course. There hadnāt been a girl I wasnāt able to seduce. Problem was she seduced me right back, body, mind, and soul. She possessed me, tormented me, and showed me a world that was so bright and pure I was almost blinded.
Didnāt she know after such a drug I could never settle for less? Didnāt she realize no matter how many times I screwed up, or broke her heart, or bent her to my will, Iād never be able to let her go?
If I hadnāt known such intensity existed, would it have been better for both of us?
True love, the real kind, isnāt nice and sweet and pure. No, itās dirty, and sinful, and messy. Itās like ripping a chunk of flesh from your body and watching yourself bleed out in slow, helpless intervals until you thankfully pass out.
This isnāt a love story. But itās the only story I got.