(I--as in me, Amy--don't like to use commercial photos, I like to use the authors' descriptions and my imagination.)
Book: Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater
Series: Wolves of Mercy Falls
I watched the edges of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze. "How long did you wait?"
It would have been unbearably romantic if he'd had the courage to look into my face and say it, but instead, he dropped his eyes to the ground and scuffed his boot in the leaves -- countless possibilities for happy days -- and the ground. "I haven't stopped."
"I can hear you humming," she said. "Do you sing?"
I grunted, still fingerpicking [the guitar] idly.
Her brush never ceased moving. "Are those your songs?"
"Have you written one for Grace?"
I had written a thousand songs for grace. "Yes."
"I'd like to hear it."
I didn't stop playing, just modulated carefully into a major key. For the first time this year, I sang out loud. It was the happiest tune I'd ever written, and the simplest.
I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl
From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl
I'd love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girl
But I'm never warm enough for my lovely summer girl
It's summer when she smiles, I'm laughing like a child
It's the summer of our lives; we'll contain it for a while
She holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her hand
I'd be happy with this summer if it's all we ever had.