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401 pages, Kindle Edition
First published October 13, 2013
Even in the vocabulary-rich world of academia, sometimes only the word “fuck” will suffice.
I like the way you are with me. I like me when I’m with you. I feel like I could tell you anythin’, that I could bear my fuckin’ black soul. You make me feel… well… you know…. You get me?”
“I get you, Romeo.”
“Not at all, Shakespeare, but hear this. I’m gonna fuck you, but I’m also gonna make love to you. I’m gonna own every goddamn piece of your soul, and I’m never gonna let you go. You’re gonna scream my name over and over until it’s permanently lodged in your friggin’ throat. You’re not gonna be just a fuck to me, Mol—you’re gonna be my fuckin’ salvation!”
“A home is not a place. It’s not a country or a town or a building or possession. Home is with the other half of your soul, the person who shares in your grief and helps you carry the burden of loss. Home is with the person who throughout it all never gives up on you and brings you eternal happiness.”
“It only took Romeo one look at Juliet and his fate was sealed. Maybe I’m just like my namesake, and maybe you’re just like yours.”
1. Write what you know. If you haven’t spent a significant amount of time in the south, don’t write about the south. Droppin’ the ‘g’ off any word endin’ with an “ing” and addin’ in ‘ain’t' every few words doesn’t make a realistic dialogue. It makes for an annoying one. This could have been a decent book, but every time I saw the missing ‘g,’ I got distracted. I’m pretty sure you wanted to write about a southern boy and thought “oh, all southerners skip the ‘g’, it’s perfect!” That would be the equivalent of me adding in bloody every other bloody word and considering myself bloody English. In choosing to write a book where the character needs a strong regional dialect, either spend the time to get it right, or place the book in a locale where it comes naturally.
2. Show me the money! Or in this case, the emotions. Scenes were so much more about telling vs showing that they didn’t make sense. Romeo’s anger never came across and it was so confusing. I only figured out he was angry when Pollyanna let us know “He was angry/mad/upset/brooding/pissed off.” Half the time I read a scene, then Molly would say something – comment on his alpha, take-charge, no-shit attitude, or the like – and I would just be left stumped. Because what I’d just read wasn’t an alpha, take-charge, no-shit attitude.
3. There is no chemistry at all. With anyone. With Shakespear and Romeo. With Shakespear and her friends.
4. Peripheral characters were just that – grossly exaggerated caricatures of people. They don’t come across as real, they don’t come across as having any kind of relationship, and they don’t add any value. Although, this gem was wonderful: ‘What’s up, bitches? Are we headin’ to this jig or what? I want to see what prime beef is on offer? Mamma’s taco needs a good ol’ fillin’.’ Let’s just digest this line for a few seconds. It really could have been an example in point 1, but I digress. She’s southern, so of course, she’s missin’ her ‘g’, and we even went so far as to get rid of the ‘d’ on ol’. But a jig? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone in America refer to a party as a jig. And the constant references to the fat girl were just annoying. Why do we need to know everything that she’s eating?
"I don’t remember Romeo being this pushy with Juliet!”
He arched his eyebrows meaningfully. “And look at how that worked out for them. My way is better—less death, more orgasms.”
A small smile transformed his normally hardened features and he took my hand and ran it across his ribs. “Are they all there?” I frowned. “What?”
“My ribs. Is there one missin’?”
My hand smoothed up and down his sides. “Okay, I think you’ve lost it. You think you’re missing a rib?”
He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Just thought God took one of mine when he made you.”
„I get so lonely that at times, I literally think it might kill me.”
Devastation engulfed his features and he rolled on top of me, urgently pressing his mouth on my lips, on my cheeks, on my forehead. “Molly, baby, you’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart.”
“It’s true and I’ve never told anyone that until just now… until you. For me, it’s been the hardest thing. It’s amazing how loud the sound of silence can be screaming at you relentlessly, reminding you that you’re completely on your own in the world.”
Romeo licked his bottom lip anxiously and his eyes began to glisten. “Can I tell you somethin’?”
I nodded shyly. He ran his finger down my cheek, but almost as if the action fuelled his strength rather than gave me comfort. “I’m desperately lonely, too.”
“Not at all, Shakespeare, but hear this. I’m gonna fuck you, but I’m also gonna make love to you. I’m gonna own every goddamn piece of your soul, and I’m never gonna let you go. You’re gonna scream my name over and over until it’s permanently lodged in your friggin’ throat. You’re not gonna be just a fuck to me, Mol—you’re gonna be my fuckin’ salvation!”
"Hey, Mol."
"Hey, you."
"You gonna give up that sweet kiss?"
"If that's what you want."
"It definitely is."
"I came to college to study, Cass, not to whore myself out to drunken frat boys!"
She gaffawed. "Whatever, darlin', you won't be thinking of studying when your ankles are wrapped 'round some stud's neck as he wears you like a necklace, tickling your belly button from the inside!"
"He's standoffish, all moody and dark, but more importantly, he's the friggin' starting QB for the tide!"
"Official statistics - six foot three, two-hundred and thirty-five pounds of solid muscle!" Cass added excitedly.
"He's a what? For who?"
"You, Molly Shakespeare, have just publicly made out with the most desirable guy on campus. A guy that never commits to anyone. A guy that other guys are shit scared of and girls would gladly give a lung for."
"Why does any human want anyone? My body recognises you as something that's good for me. My mind recognises you as someone who's right for me, and my soul recognises you as someone who is meant for me."
"It only took Romeo one look at Juliet and his fate was sealed. Maybe I'm just like my namesake, and maybe you're just like yours."
"I don't remember Romeo being this pushy with Juliet!"
He arched his eyebrows meaningfully. "And look at how that worked out for them. My way is better - less death, more orgasms."
"I get so lonely that at times, I literally think it might kill me."
"Molly, a home is not a place. It's not a country or a town or a building or possession. Home is with the other half of your soul, the person who shares your grief and helps you carry the burden of loss. Home is with the person who throughout it all never gives up on you and brings you eternal happiness. That, Molly dear, is your home sweet home."
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“Hey, Mol”
“Hey, you.”
“You going to give up that lucky sweet kiss?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It most definitely is.”
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“He’s not just a football player. He’s the bravest, most caring person I’ve ever met. He understands me like no one before. He’s my soul mate—he’s my everything.”
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"Home is with the other half of your soul, the person who shares your grief and helps you carry the burden of loss. Home is with the person who throughout it all never gives up on you and brings you eternal happiness. That, Molly dear, is your home sweet home."
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"Why am I more? I don't get it." "You just are. You somehow give me peace in my completely fucked-up world. you get me; no one has before. It's that simple."
"What's up, bitches? Are we headin' to this jig or what? I wanna see what prime beef is on offer. Mama's taco needs a good ol' fillin'."
It only took Romeo one look at Juliet and his fate was sealed. Maybe I’m just like my namesake, and maybe you’re just like yours.
"One day, my sweet girl, some lucky man will come and help you understand the very meaning of love. He will sweep you off your feet and show you what it is to place your heart in someone else’s care, and to willingly offer them the gift of your soul."
“I don’t remember Romeo being this pushy with Juliet!”.....He arched his eyebrows meaningfully. “And look at how that worked out for them. My way is better—less death, more orgasms.”
"Why does any human want anyone? My body recognizes you as something that’s good for me. My mind recognizes you as someone who’s right for me, and my soul recognizes you as someone who is meant for me."
"A home is not a place. It’s not a country or a town or a building or possession. Home is with the other half of your soul, the person who shares in your grief and helps you carry the burden of loss. Home is with the person who throughout it all never gives up on you and brings you eternal happiness."
“Don’t mistake yourself for one of the others, Mol. You’re much, much more. I’ll gladly convince anyone who thinks otherwise.”
“Why am I more? I don’t get it.”
“You just are. You somehow give me peace in my completely fucked-up world. You get me; no one has before. It’s that simple.”
“My body recognises you as something that’s good for me. My mind recognises you as someone who’s right for me, and my soul recognises you as someone who is meant for me.”
A bashful smile ghosted his lips and his tense shoulders relaxed. “We’re in fuckin’ deep, aren’t we, Shakespeare?” he said in hushed tone, his body radiating a peaceful happiness.
A feeling of contentment settled over us both.
“I think that’s an understatement.”
“I love you. I love you beyond anythin’ I could’ve ever imagine was possible.”
“I don’t remember Romeo being this pushy with Juliet!”
He arched his eyebrows meaningfully. “And look at how that worked out for them. My way is better— less death, more orgasms.”
“We can’t erase the secrets and marred memories of our pasts, but we can build the next chapter of our lives together.”
“Hey Mol.”
“Hey You.”
“You gonna give up that lucky sweet kiss?”
“If that's what you want.”
“It most definitely is.”