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Sometimes love means letting go when you want to hold on tighter.

Melissa Marr

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Melissa Marr
Age: 52
Born: 1972
Born: July 25
Author
Fantasy Author
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Pennsylvania
United States
M. A. Marr
Melissa A Marr
Sometimes
Mean
Love
Tighter
Letting
Hold
Means

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Not 'Don' in that I-m-sorry-and-now-you'll-forgive-me-like-you-always-do-way. Not this time, Keenan. (Donya)
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With a strange half-mocking tone, Aislinn said, It's not just guys like those today. Even the pretty ones can be awful. Don't trust them just because they're pretty. Donia laughed, coldly, sounding every bit Beira's creature in that moment. Where were you when I needed that advice? I've already gone out with the biggest mistake a girl can ma
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Hold me? If you still want to, I mean. She looked away. Everyday--then he was there, lifting her into his arms, holding her like she was fragile and precious--I want to hold you every day. Nothing will ever change that.
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-You won't like me if I'm cruel. -I don't like you now. -We don't lie. -I'm mortal, Irial. I can lie all I want to.
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Without stopping kissing her, he swept her up into his arms. They stood in the motel lobby kissing until someone called, Get a room. Donia pulled back and laughed. That was the plan. They said no.
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You say potato I say potahto... I say integrity you say deceit.
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I'm not bloodthirsty, but...seriously, she killed you. She needs to be dead.
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Belief is a powerful thing. If you believe you can.
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Leslie? Irial whispered. What are you doing? Choosing. Tears were soaking the blanket under Leslie's face. I'm mine. Not anyone else's. I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl. And then he was gone, and her emotions crashed over her.
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Talking won't change it. But sometimes it was what she wanted most, to tell someone often, though, she just wanted to escape those horrid feelings, to escape herself, so there was no pain, no fear, no ugliness.
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Life is too short to read books that I'm not enjoying.
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Loving someone meant letting them be who they were, not caging them
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Writing is not just the technical act of your fingers on the keyboard. Writing is living.
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You're an idiot, she whispered tearfully. Finally, he opened his eyes and stared up at her by then, she had moved on to stroking his hair and crying. She sat beside him on the edge of the bed, trying very hard not to bump him or let her cold tears fall on his bare chest and arms. For a moment he blinked at her. Then he asked, Are you dead too?
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If he took her into his arms, he would keep her. He wouldn't let her suffer the way the other mortals had when he'd left them. He would keep her, with his court's permission or without it. Irial wouldn't take her, and Keenan wouldn't stand between them.
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Chase away sorrow by living
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You are the single most amazing person, faery, woman in this world or the other. Because of you, I am a part of this strange new world, have a second mother, and . . . eternity. I have almost everything I could want.
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I don't know what I am, but this isn't happiness.
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By every mortal standard, the worst faeries in the world were those in the Dark Court. They fed on the baser emotions they engaged in activities that the other-also amoral-faery courts repudiated. They were also the only ones she truly trusted or understood.
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