Author: Sonia M. Rompoti
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Saltwater
She’d come to Crete to get over a man. She had not expected to meet another one on the first day, on her beach, sharing her particular patch of sun like it was the most natural thing in the world, reading the same book she was reading with the same dog-eared copy of *Giovanni’s Room*…
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The Architecture of Almost
The thing about wanting your colleague was that it didn’t stop just because you told it to. Sophie had been telling hers to stop for approximately eleven months, two weeks, and — she checked her watch — four days, and it had ignored every single instruction. Marcus set his coffee down on the table across…
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Sunday Pancakes
The first time Nora realised she was completely, irreversibly in love with her best friend, she was watching him make pancakes in her kitchen at seven in the morning wearing her spare set of keys on his wrist like a bracelet, because he’d forgotten them there last Sunday and hadn’t given them back, and she…
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The Wrong Room
The hotel key worked perfectly — that was the problem. If it hadn’t, Mia would never have opened the door, never have walked into the steam-thick bathroom expecting an empty room, and never have come face to face with the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life, wrapped in nothing but a…
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Why Romance Authors Make the Best Emotional Detectives
Romance authors do more than write kisses and chemistry. We study patterns, mixed signals, fear, longing, and emotional truth. That’s why we often spot what others miss. If relationships keep confusing you, it may be time to stop listening only to words and start reading behavior. Books included, naturally.
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It’s None of Your Business: The Indie Author’s Guide to Posting Anyway
Trying to please everyone online is how authors disappear. Your job isn’t universal approval. It’s creating boldly so the right readers can find you. Post anyway. Your people are out there. #IndieAuthor #BookMarketing #WitchyAuthor #AmWriting
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What the Rain Remembers
She was standing outside his coffee shop in the rain, and for a full thirty seconds, Daniel forgot how to breathe. Seven years. Seven years of silence, of rebuilding, of convincing himself he was over her — and there she was, wearing that ridiculous yellow raincoat she’d had since college, squinting at her phone like…
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The Shift
It happened over soup. She’d been having lunch alone at the counter of the small Japanese place on Wren Street, as she did on Tuesdays, and he’d been brought by a colleague, and the only available seat was beside her. She knew him. Not personally — professionally. He was the director her agency reported to, the one…
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After Everything
She started yoga at fifty-three because her knees hurt and her doctor said it was that or swimming. She had always hated swimming. The instructor was not what she expected. She had expected a twenty-two-year-old. He was fifty-something with grey in his hair and moved with the ease of a body that had been paid…
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The Long Way Back
They met on the worst night of her life. She was sitting on the kerb outside the hospital at 3 a.m. because the corridor was too full and the night was too long and she needed to breathe. He was sitting on the same kerb because his father was in surgery and he also needed…
Sonia M. Rompoti, MSc, Bsc 