He was the monster that no one thought to look for in the light of day. It was a common mistake. People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety - like light - is a facade. Underneath, the whole world is drenched in darkness.

— C.J. Roberts

His fingers caressed the column of my tense throat. I shivered in fear. I hated not being able to see what was happening, it forced me to feel everything.

— C.J. Roberts

His touch was simple, but specific, meant to show me he could be like a lover, gentle, intimate, but also that he was a man unaccustomed to hearing the word no. Yes. I understood. He was a man, and I? I was nothing but a girl, not even a woman. I was meant to fall at his feet and worship at the altar of his masculinity, grateful that he’d deigned to acknowledge me. All this, from a simple touch.

— C.J. Roberts

I cried for a while, taking solace in the comforting lie of his embrace. The illusion, the fantasy, it helped. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to stay here forever, held tight to his chest, his fingers stroking my hair, his heart beating against my ear: you’re-safe, trust-me, love-you. Love. Did I want him to love me? Yes. I wanted someone to love me. And what was love if not someone risking their lives to save you? Caleb had saved me. Did it mean he loved me? A part of me wanted to think so. To believe in a romantic ideal that didn’t exist. I wanted to believe the lie. But more than that – I wanted it not to be a lie

— C.J. Roberts

I’m writing this because you begged. You know how I love the begging

— C.J. Roberts

It's an ember forever burning in my heart. It's a reminder Caleb will live forever.

— C.J. Roberts

I wanted to cry for wanting to cry.

— C.J. Roberts

I was not crying - eyes water. I think we all know I'm a badass and I don't cry. - Caleb

— C.J. Roberts

Like a Falcon, she needed the dark to understand who her master was. She would learn to trust him, to rely upon him, to anticipate what he wanted from her. And like any master with his salt, he would reward her for her obedience. He would be exceedingly firm, but he would also be as fair as he could be. He had not chosen the instrument of his revenge at random. Furthermore, he had chosen a beautiful submissive. And what was a submissive if not adaptable -if not a survivor?

— C.J. Roberts

Like any author worth a shit - she parted with a piece of her soul.

— C.J. Roberts