Love, in my stories doesn't strike like lightning. There's no orchestra swelling as eyes meet across a crowded room. No breathless moment of recognition that says, "This is it."

Because love, real love, doesn’t happen like that. Not in the world my characters live in.

They meet in crisis. In chaos. In bruised, imperfect moments where no one is looking for connection, but somehow find it anyway.

They don’t fall in love—they grow in it. Layer by layer. Conversation by conversation.

Sometimes it's a wordless bond in shared silence.

Sometimes it's banter that turns into trust.

And eventually, it's the realization that they are safer with each other than without. That's where my love stories begin.

Because love born in hardship isn't fragile. It's forged.

Ledge Pond