"After a while I whispered, like, 'Just say something to me. Anything.' And I thought, Any other word apart from love, ‘cause that word is diluted, and no one knows what it really means, anyway. Then he kissed me—even without the ice cream—and said my name, like, he tasted it in his mouth, and rolled it on his tongue, which made me awful happy. And we started our dance again..."
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I never use the word Love lightly; it appears only three times in my novel. Because of this scarcity, the word has a powerful effect once it is pronounced, so that the expression 'Apart From Love' becomes shaded with different meanings, all of which are explored. At times it means, except for love--other times it means, disjointed, yearning from afar for a connection, for a touch.
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Still Life with Memories
Volume I & II, woven together: Apart from Love
Volume I: My Own Voice
Volume II: The White Piano
Volume III: The Music of Us
"It's so refreshing to read a novel with lyrical beautiful writing"