Prologue

When you actually think about it, a book is kind of a strange thing. Sometimes hundreds upon hundreds of pages printed with an even greater total of words. Those words are written by a complete stranger, someone you don’t know willing to share his or her fantasies. We read those words without thinking twice about the person behind them. Is it a man or woman? Young or old? Rich or someone just chasing their dreams in the hope of selling a couple of books?
      How do we allow ourselves to get completely lost in someone else’s world? How do they manage to capture their readers with just a big stack of papers?


How do you manage to fall in love with someone you only know through their words?