The Measure Book Club Questions Novels & Stories

Then I tip her chin up and look her in the eyes. “You’re not a maybe, Emilie.” She blinks. “You’re not some background character in my story. You’re it. You’re the plot. The arc. The whole damn book.” Her breath catches. “Nobody’s leaving. Especially not me.” We don’t say anything for a while after that. There is just breath and us living the moment. Her hand finds mine under the sheets, our fingers tangling like they are made to. The sun is starting to rise with a little light creeping in through the curtains.

More, and more. End of Book 1

Let's run. And we do. END OF BOOK FOUR: HER WICKED HEART

Can he resist her? Read this fifth book of the temptation series to find out!

Gwen's Pov I couldn’t stay in that apartment another minute. The package on the coffee table stared at me like a living accusation. Every time I glanced at it, fresh waves of humiliation crashed over me. I needed out. My Book club meeting was today. Right. It was my one safe, normal thing this week, a quiet gathering at a cute café a few blocks away where we talked about romance novels and drank overpriced lattes. No ex-husbands. No lecturers. No drama.

I want to ask you a question to help me give this book the best ending that it deserves. Is there anything I haven't added to this story that you think I should add? Or Is there something I mentioned that deserves to be discussed more on? Your responses will be one of the best thing to happen to me. Thank you so much.

Dear Readers, On behalf of everyone reading ’He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back’, thank you for reading. I know you have many choices. Boy oh boy, you do have many choices. It’s crazy to think how many choices you have. In fact, some people think there are too many choices. Browsing through the endless books on this site can be like feeling hungry in a supermarket. Despite the beautifully displayed cornucopia, you often leave frustrated and unsatisfied. So once again, thank you for choosing to read ‘He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back’.

The third book, complete. The practice, as always, continuing. Three books. Thirty-seven years. The record, made visible. Not the end. Complete. The difference matters. She sends it to the publisher the following Tuesday. Then she calls Clara. "It is done," she says. "I know," Clara says. "The sentence on the notepad." "What did you mean by 'this is the one'?" "That the first two books described the practice," Clara says. "This one is the practice. The argument doesn't explain itself from the outside — it enacts itself from the inside. You can feel the thirty-seven years in every page. That is not the same as reading about thirty-seven years."

Why does she always look so at peace around sad stories? “Oh—right,” I stammered when I realized she was waiting for an answer. “It’s, uh, The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want us to find it first?” I shook my head. “Why?” she pressed, but I only shrugged. Rolling her eyes, she placed another hardcover on my growing pile. “Let’s go check if they have a cart.” My eyes widened. “How many are you planning to buy?”

"Only one way to prove that." "Careful, wife." I warned, my voice low and teasing. "I always rise to a challenge." She laughed softly, her gaze falling to the book she’d closed. "Do you know what this book’s about?" I glanced at the title again, pretending to think. "A family, right? Something about poverty and resilience?" She nodded, seeming a bit surprised though she had found the book in the beach house, probably assuming I've never read it. "It’s about overcoming tough beginnings and finding beauty in broken places. It’s sad but also hopeful." Her voice softened and she looked thoughtful.