Someone once said, the greater the love the harder the fall.
I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure saw my brain when I read that in one of the catalogue of cheesy magazines my aunt left lying around the house.
Unlike the women in my family, I didn’t believe in love. Shit, I had trouble loving myself let alone another man.
To me, love is nothing more than an over-hyped conception, a chemical reaction programmed into us so we could procreate.
And I had no intention of ever allowing a man close enough to break my heart like the many that broke my mothers and ultimately ended her life.
But, there I sat at the tender age of seventeen, blissfully oblivious of the devastation that was awaiting me.
And the name of that sinful yet beautiful devastation is Talon Saxton.