Welcome to Litsy!

In English, Araceli was vibrant and cheerful; in Spanish, she was soft, maternal, with a voice from the undulating Córdoba hills; in French, she was endearingly wide-eyed and lost, tripping over her words as if they were large obstacles. Adrien liked her most, but knew her least, in his mother tongue.

A slim, propulsive novel about obsession and betrayal, told in eloquent vignettes. Four protagonists in Montreal with interlocking stories, making commitments they cannot seem to keep. “I will never do that again,” she said. “Be the one who loves less.” #CanadianAuthor

She had looked at him as if to say: Falling in love is not a road that can be retraced; it is an end that hides its own origins, a path in deep winter whose tracks fill with snow.

… she felt love slide through her like a spear of light, like an arrow, as pure and white as moonlight.

It was the first thing he liked about her. She forged ahead, alone, not the kind of girl who would doubt that you loved her, whose insecurity needled its way into every crevice, weakening the mortar of every wall.