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First published October 8, 2017





“She is everything I want that I can’t have…”
“Sooner or later everyone was driven to love someone they could never have.”


“She owns a part of me that is already gone—that I can never, ever reclaim again.”




Jem is showing me, from the grave, how to say goodbye-he's giving me a chance to bury him and move on-but I have to battle my comfortable inertia and start moving to make it happen.
"Who told you that you had to stay unloved?"I've been ready to read this for months. It was the kind of book that I hadn't realized I was dying to read until it existed... if that makes any sense? Probably not since it's closing in on 2 AM, but the point is: I was freaking ready for this book. And like the lady boss she is, Katy Regnery didn't let me down. There were a couple things that swayed my rating, but I think they had more to do with my expectations than anything else. This is still one I'll be recommending to anyone looking for a unique love story 😉

To know that my mother and grandfather share this fear makes it real to me, makes me feel sick, makes me feel like I'm living with a ticking bomb inside me.I seriously spent most of the book wishing I could give him one big hug, especially when he says he dreams about being kissed or held 😰 It killed me 😭😭😭 Then he meets Brynn, and I was DONE for!
The world stops spinning. And all the oxygen made by every tree in that forest is sucked away, leaving me light-head.Seriously, is that not beautiful?? ^^ I love Katy's writing and I love how she wrote Cassidy. You want to be mad at him for not seeing his innate goodness and pushing Brynn away, but it's impossible given how torn up he is...
What is it that would bring me satisfaction? That would fill the emptiness? Knowing her? Or hurting her?Then he
A million times, I've returned to that night, to the simple, nothing decisions that started a chain of events in my life leading to today.
"Saying goodbye doesn't mean forgetting. Moving on doesn't mean you never loved him. I'm telling you to let go. I'm telling you that you're allowed to be happy."
By sharing our pain with each other, we aren't doubling it, but halving it.
We kiss while the smoke of one life winds around us and the promise of another is finally—finally—within reach.There were plenty more, but I'm trying to show some self control.

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My name is Cassidy Porter...
My father, Paul Isaac Porter, was executed twenty years ago for the brutal murder of twelve innocent girls.
Though I was only eight-years-old at the time, I am aware - every day of my life - that I am his child, his only son.
To protect the world from the poison in my veins, I live a quiet life, off the grid, away from humanity.
I promised myself, and my mother, not to infect innocent lives with the darkness that swirls within me, waiting to make itself known.
It's a promise I would have kept... if Brynn Cadogan hadn't stumbled into my life.
Now I exist between heaven and hell: falling for a woman who wants to love me, while all along reminding myself that I must remain...
Unloved.
The rest of the world moved on from the Steeple 10 Shooting, ever more numb to the news of similar events, out of sympathy for nameless strangers who meet the same tragic end.
But I can’t seem to move on.
I had someone in the crowd that night who had a name, who was dearly loved. Those of us who survived are the walking wounded. Or, the walking dead.
I am the son of the man one reporter called “the bloodiest serial killer the state of Maine has ever known.” … It’s a fact.
And now it follows me wherever I go.
Rapist’s son.
Murderer’s son.
Freak.
Killer.
For each story of a serial killer’s child becoming a police officer or a teacher and living a normal life, there’s another story that supports the idea that evil can be inherited. And each one chills me through…
While having children is physically possible for me, it is ethically impossible.
Which means that, despite my urges and longings, loving a woman is impossible too.
Because it would be wrong to deprive a woman of children, and it would also be wrong to risk infecting the world with the terrible legacy I might carry in my DNA.
[This] beautiful girl asleep on my chest, her ear over my heart, needs me right now. So I hold her close and let me eyes shut as the sun lowers over “the greatest mountain.”
I don’t really know her.
I don’t have any right to her.
I shouldn’t get attached to her.
In a handful of days she will be gone.
But right now, there is simply nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.
She’s come dangerously close to offering me something I might actually be able to accept — no-strings-attached physical intimacy with an expiration date.
No commitment.
No marriage or children or forever.
No chance of infecting the world with my father’s genes.
Without realizing it, she’s giving me the opportunity to love her without breaking my promises.
“If I ever see you again, I’ll never be able to let you go.”
I will love her until the sky falls.
Until the sun and moon fail to rise.
Until Katahdin crumbles.
I will love her forever.









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