Writing A Review About A Book Novels & Stories

he said softly. Her name wasn’t spoken like a question. Or a greeting. It was more like a confession. She closed the book, placing it carefully beside her. “You’re late,” she murmured. “I know.” His voice was low and weighted. “I thought some distance would help.” “Did it?” He did not move closer, but something in the air between them did. “No,” he answered honestly. The single syllable tugged at her breath. She shouldn’t have been relieved. She shouldn’t have wanted the tension to tighten its grip. But she did. Her pulse jumped, a slow and warm flutter low in her stomach.