myprivatelibrary

[myprivatelibrary]

There's a kind of time travel in letters, isn't there? I imagine you laughing at my small joke; I imagine you groaning; I imagine you throwing my words away. Do I have you still? Do I address empty air and the flies that will eat this carcass? You could leave me for five years, you could return never- and I have to write the rest of this not knowing. I prefer read-receipts, all things considered- the instant handshake of slow telepathy through our wires. But this is a fascinating technology, in its limits.

-This Is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, p. 42

#reading #lit #literature #this is how you lose the time war #amal el mohtar #max gladstone #fiction #letters #bookblr #booktok #time travel

[myprivatelibrary]

I appreciate your subtlety. Not every battle's grand, not every weapon fierce. Even we who fight wars through time forget the value of a word in the right moment, a rattle in the right car engine, a nail in the right horseshoe... It's so easy to crush a planet that you may overlook the value of a whisper to a snowbank.

-This Is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, p.13

#reading #lit #literature #This is how you lose the time war #amal el mohtar #max gladstone #tihylttw #fiction #booktok #bookblr #war #battle #subtlety

[myprivatelibrary]

Quitting grad school and pouring herself, heart and soul, into Oh My Stars hadn't been easy. Making that leap into the unknown had been terrifying, but it had always felt right, because she wasn't one to settle. She wanted more. This, kissing Darcy beside the rainbow light of a Christmas tree with more heat than pine needles, was the closest Elle had ever come to experiencing real magic, the kind that sparkled inside her veins and electrified her from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes.

Written in the Stars, Alexandria Bellefleur, p. 272

#reading #lit #literature #Written in the Stars #Alexandria Bellefleur #lgbtqia #love #romance #romance books #booktok #bookblr #books #fiction

[myprivatelibrary]

Something snapped, want overriding everything else. She pressed Elle firmly against the wall and tasted the blunt edges of Elle's teeth, dipped her tongue deeper, traced the roof of Elle's mouth and dropped her hands, palming Elle's hips when Elle shivered and melted. Sweet, Elle's lips tasted like strawberries and her tongue like peppermint. Darcy wanted more, was suddenly greedy for a taste of- Reality crashed down on her in the form of someone laying on a car horn. Elle rolled her lips together, eyes flitting away. Darcy turned, glaring at the car where her brother was hanging out the window, grinning stupidly. "Get a room." He winked. Tried to wink. Brendon was getting fucking socks for Christmas. Boring, black, argyle ones.

Written in the Stars, Alexandria Bellefleur, p. 133-134

#reading #lit #literature #Written in the Stars #Alexandria Bellefleur #lgbtqia #romance #romance book #bookblr #booktok #books #fiction #cackling

[myprivatelibrary]

Elle held her breath as Darcy frowned thoughtfully. "Okay, got it. May I ask a question?" "Absolutely." Elle gestured for Darcy to go on. "There's no such thing as a stupid question. There's a definite learning curve to this." Darcy nodded. "All right. If your Jupiter is... in Virgo?" Elle nodded. "Where's your Uranus?" "My Uranus is in Capri-" Elle froze. "Wow." Darcy's dimples deepened as she smiled impishly. "Sorry, it was just right there."

Written in the Stars, Alexandria Bellefleur, p. 86

#reading #lit #literature #Written in the Stars #Alexandria Bellefleur #romance #lgbtqia #romance books #bookblr #booktok #astrology #zodiac #Uranus #books #fiction

[myprivatelibrary]

"I meant it when I told you before: I want every version of you." A fingertip lands in the center of my lower lip. "I love every version of you."

Weather Girl, Rachel Lynn Solomon, p. 319

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Weather Girl #Rachel Lynn Solomon #books #bookblr #litblr #booktok #love #romance books #romance novels #romcom #attraction #relationships

[myprivatelibrary]

"Eventually, you deal with something for long enough that it becomes such an intrinsic part of you, and you can't imagine yourself without it. You accept it, maybe because you think you deserve it but also because you're scared that if you tried to change it, it wouldn't work. It feels easier to live in that somber place because you don't know who you are otherwise, and you're worried about putting in all that effort without a guaranteed outcome."

Weather Girl, Rachel Lynn Solomon, p. 306-307

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Weather Girl #Rachel Lynn Solomon #books #depression #sadness #acceptance #resignation #romance novels #bookblr #litblr #booktok

[myprivatelibrary]

That's the thing about depression. You can know it's there, know it's part of you, but you can go ages without seeing it. It lives with you, an invisible roommate, up until the time you start sinking, and then it sprawls itself across your couch and kicks its feet up on your coffee table and uses up all the hot water. Never pays its half of the rent, either.      You can be okay for months, for years, before it creeps back in, telling you lies like 'you will always feel this way' and 'no one will love you because of it' and 'why bother.' Once, you could tell they were lies, but now they weigh down your shoulders and take up space in your lungs. Sometimes they come out of nowhere. Other times, some grim event helps yank you back to that dark place.      And god, you are so fucking exhausted, so you let it happen.

Weather Girl, Rachel Lynn Solomon, p. 287

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Weather Girl #Rachel Lynn Solomon #books #depression #loathing #self loathing #chronic depression #bookblr #litblr #booktok #romance books #romance novels #sadness #resignation

[myprivatelibrary]

"Whatever it's called- I like it. I like all of you."      "I like all of you, too. Every version." He brushes some of my hair out of the way, pressing a kiss to my temple. "I like you when you're talking about the sun in the forecast." His mouth moves lower, lips fluttering over my eyelashes. "I like you when you're gleefully telling everyone to expect about a hundred more days of rain." A kiss at the corner of my mouth. "But I like the real version best. And I feel really fucking lucky that I get to see that Ari Abrams."

Weather Girl, Rachel Lynn Solomon, p. 264

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Weather Girl #Rachel Lynn Solomon #relationships #romance #love #romance books #romance novels #bookblr #litblr #booktok

[myprivatelibrary]

"What I'm realizing," I continue, "is that I like myself the most when I'm around you. And I think it's because I'm the most honest version of myself. I don't have to try as hard, and I don't have to hide. I can just... be."

Weather Girl, Rachel Lynn Solomon, p. 254

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Weather Girl #Rachel Lynn Solomon #books #bookbly #litblr #booktok #romance #romance books #romance novels #relationships #bookblr

[myprivatelibrary]

Almost ten years I've been in therapy, and every time I'm here, I'm all brief answers at first. 'How are you?' 'Okay.' 'What have you been up to since last time?' 'Not much.' I have to ease into it, a duckling learning to swim again and again. Joanna must be used to it because she lets her questions breathe. Therapy and journalism have that in common.

Weather Girl, Rachel Lynn Solomon, p. 167

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Weather Girl #Rachel Lynn Solomon #therapy #healing #journalism #opening up #books #bookblr #litblr #booktok #romance books

[myprivatelibrary]

"The emptiness came back, because I was siphoning off bit by bit who I truly am to satisfy someone else's idea of who I should be."      I swallow, too. Hearing Jack talk about the emptiness... it sounds an awful lot like my ache, like that pit that exists just south of my ribs, the hole I thought was loneliness. But what if the ache isn't the absence of other people? What if the thing missing inside of me is... me? It's a terrifying thought, because it means this hole inside my chest can't be filled by two hundred thousand dollars or a woman with freckles and a quarter-moon smile.

Kiss Her Once for Me, Alison Cochrun, p. 281

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Kiss Her Once for Me #Alison Cochrun #loneliness #emptiness #depression #romance #books #bookblr #litble #booktok

[myprivatelibrary]

The axe clatters to the ground as the two halves split, and Jack grabs her shoulder and winces.      "Are you okay? What's wrong?"      "Nothing." She clenches her teeth. "I have an old shoulder injury from kneading dough that flares up sometimes."      I cannot abide that sentence. "From kneading dough?"      "Fuck. You."      "I'm sorry, but you have some kind of baker's tendonitis."      "You're the absolute worst human," she seethes. "Why am I always getting snowed in places with you?"

Kiss Her Once for Me, Alison Cochrun, p. 251

#CACKLING #this part had me DYING #reading #lit #literature #Kiss Her Once for Me #Alison Cochrun #books #bookblr #litblr #booktok #WlW #romance #romance books #romance novels #lgbtqia #comedy #romcom #lumbersexual

[myprivatelibrary]

Jack repositions her hands on the axe handle, then raises her arms again. I take a step back and watch the forceful arc of the axe as it collides with the chunk of wood.      And oh. Oh my goodness.      My free hand clutches my throat. The whole lumbersexual thing suddenly makes sense because Good Lord. Watching Jack chop that piece of wood in half is the single most arousing thing my demisexual brain has ever witnessed. Even though her muscles aren't visible through her flannel, I can somehow sense the way they ripple, the tendons in her neck straining, her hands flexing against the axe. Some primal instinct in me says, 'This one could build you shelter.'

Kiss Her Once for Me, Alison Cochrun, p. 250

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Kiss Her Once for Me #Alison Cochrun #romance #lgbtqia #WlW #steamy #books #bookblr #litblr #booktok #lumberjack #lumberjack fantasies #lumbersexual

[myprivatelibrary]

"How have you never chopped wood before?" I ask her as she grips the axe with an uncharacteristic lack of confidence.      "When would I have chopped wood before?" she practically shouts. Her panic hasn't faded yet, despite my genius plan to start a fire. "I had a very privileged upbringing!"      "But you wear so much flannel."      "Everyone wears flannel! It's Portland!"      "And the Carhartt jacket."      "What is your issue with my jacket?"      "And I've heard you talk about building a chicken coop."      "With a table saw." She brandishes the axe in my direction. "And why am I the one who has to chop the wood?"      "Because *you* are the butch lesbian."      She glares. "That's all I am to you, isn't it? A butch lesbian stereotype."      "No, you're very complex and multifaceted, but your arm muscles are objectively bigger than mine, so you're just going to have to do the stereotypical thing here."      "Okay. Okay," she mutters, psyching herself up. She sets down the axe for a minute and peels off her bulky ski jacket so she has better range of motion. This reveals the stereotypical flannel she has on underneath. "Oh, fuck you," she says before I can comment.

Kiss Her Once for Me, Alison Cochrun, p. 249-250

#this may be my favorite 3-page stretch in literary romance history #reading #lit #literature #Kiss Her Once for Me #Alison Cochrun #books #bookblr #litblr #booktok #lgbtqia #romance #romance books #romance novel #romcom #comedy #CACKLING #stereotypical #flannel #Portland #WLW #wlw romance #lumbersexual

[myprivatelibrary]

I guess maybe that's how it works in families who love each other unconditionally: you can fight without fear of losing them and be honest without consequences or repercussions.

Kiss Her Once for Me, Alison Cochrun, p. 153

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Kiss Her Once for Me #Alison Cochrun #love #family #families #unconditional love #romance #books #bookblr #litblr #booktok

[myprivatelibrary]

"Do you really think that?" she asks abruptly. "That a relationship is a failure if it doesn't last forever?"      My hand pauses over the napkin. "Well, I mean, isn't forever the goal of marriage?"      Jack's jaw tightens for a minute, and I study her profile as she turns to look out at the snow. It's obvious I've said something wrong, but I'm not sure what it is. "I think marriage is just promising to love someone as long as you can for as best you can. I think relationships can be exactly what they're supposed to be," she says, eyes still on the snow, "even if they only last for one year, or five years, or even just for one  day. The good parts of the time you spent with a person don't go away simply because the relationship ends."

Kiss Her Once for Me, Alison Cochrun, p. 105

#reading #lit #literature #fiction #Kiss Her Once for Me #Alison Cochrun #romance #relationships #breakups #bookblr #litblr #booktok #books