~ Book Synopsis ~
I wish I could tell you that I was stolen.
Kidnapped off the street in some third-world country, sold against my will, while a desperate family back home waited and prayed and talked about me on the news.
I wish I could tell you that, because then you might understand.
What really happened? I walked to my fate with my eyes wide open. But before you say I deserved whatever happened to me, you should know. I was desperate. I was alone. I was afraid for my life. You would have done the same thing.
I thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
But then, I woke up in darkness, unable to move. There was only one thing I was sure of: I wasn’t alone anymore.
And then I heard HIS voice...
My Three Favorite Quotes from Pieces of Autumn
I’d like to tell you that I love all of my quotes equally, but it’s simply not true. I gotta play favorites. There are some moments in Pieces of Autumn that I enjoy more than others, so I thought I’d share them. But, shhh...don’t tell the rest of the scenes. They get jealous.
He laughed, ringing out loud and harsh in the room.
“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice low and rough. Dripping sex. “Compassion isn’t what you crave.”
This is my favorite dark romance trope. He knows what she wants, more than she does. Because it’s oh so wrong. The nice guys never get this, but the oh-so-bad boys definitely do.
The pain is a constant thing.
It’s not emotional. It is a deep and physical ache, lodged in my chest where no surgeon could ever hope to find it. It’s as real as a snake bite or a broken leg. It is not the sting of a whip or the heavy thud of a bat against my ribs, although I still have a twinge when I breathe in deep.
If all the broken things from my past were like vicious shards, embedded deep, an ache I’d grown used to - didn’t know how to live without -
Then Autumn was like a paper cut. Sharp and bright and sudden. Unexpected. Hurting more than it had any right to.
Tate’s point of view is relatively rare in the story, but this is one of my favorite moments. He’s essentially admitting that he’s in love with her. Because she’s different. Maybe the only thing he’s capable of feeling right now is pain, but at least she’s a new kind of pain.
My tone was vicious. He stared at me, his eyes widening slightly.
“It’s all bullshit,” I shouted. His eyes flashed with anger, but he didn’t move. “You’re hiding behind a mask. You want absolution, but you can’t face what you did. So your way of forgiving yourself is to decide that you can’t help it. This is just who you are. But it doesn’t work, does it? Because you know it’s not true. You know you can do better. You’re just afraid to.”
Every romance needs a moment where the characters finally cut to the heart of the matter, and say what we’ve all been thinking. This one was personally cathartic for me, and I think it’s something that a lot of people do - not just Tate. It’s always easier to wallow. To keep doing what you’re accustomed to doing. What Tate’s doing is not sustainable, and it’s Autumn who dares to tell him so.
What’s your all-time favorite quote from a dark romance? Tell me about it in the comments!
“Never say that word to me.”
I had never heard his voice like that. Not once. My blood chilled in my veins. If I thought I’d ever been afraid of Tate before, it was nothing. Absolutely nothing compared to this.
I’d wanted to unnerve him, but instead, I seemed to have unhinged him. Unleashed something I didn’t understand, and didn’t want to.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Too late,” he replied, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. His tone was pure venom, pure sin, pure fucking evil. “Too late for apologies.”
In that moment, I had three choices.
I could fight him.
I could run.
Or, I could tie myself to the mast and meet him, measure for measure.
I chose the storm. With the hurricane himself standing there, his pulse pounding so loud I could almost hear it, I chose to stand tall.
What was happening? What was he about to do? I had no way of knowing, no way of guessing what he’d do. How he’d ruin me.
But I knew I could survive.
His hand lashed out and grabbed mine, lifting it to his face. Eyes half-lidded, he brought my fingers to his lips, my thumb pressing past them and up against his teeth. Finding resistance, for a moment, until he parted them and suckled it into the soft, wet heat of his mouth.
About the Author
Mara Black is a connoisseur of love that lurks in the shadows .
~ Giveaway ~
~ Signed book of Pieces of Autumn ~