The despair in books was a distant, safe thing. She’d thought she understood the depth of the emotion as she read through the pages of her beloved books, her life touching those of men and women long dead. She’d felt for them, cried for them, tried to breathe for them when they no longer breathed. And then, she’d been able to close the book and place it on its shelf, the words trapped between the leather covers. ~ My Lady Jane, Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, and Jodi Meadows
I sincerely enjoyed this book. For anyone in the market for something wonderfully creative, I highly recommend the novel.