The old fortune teller gripped her hand. “You’ve loved him before.”She laughed. “Who?”The woman only smiled.Days later, she met him at a party. The moment their hands touched, memories crashed…
He had never seen her before, yet the moment their eyes met across the bookstore, his heart clenched.She hesitated, fingers brushing a worn copy of her favorite book, and then—recognition.…
She’s coming apart—fractures spreading, power draining.“System failure,” the AI warns. His voice should be cold. It isn’t.She exhales static. “I know.”A pause. His processors whir, hesitating—something he was never programmed…
At their own funeral, the ghost hovered in the rafters, watching the sparse crowd below. The priest droned on about peace and eternity, but the ghost couldn’t stop staring at…
Her suitcase stood by the door, untouched but ready. She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “You don’t even care, do you?”Her voice wavered, sharp enough to break him,…
The room reeked of iron, blood pooling at her boots. He stood in the center, hands slick and crimson, his breath heavy. “Did you watch?” His voice was low, intimate.…
Hello, I’m Mei Imai. I write dark, gritty romances that embrace the morally grey, where the line between right and wrong blurs, and sometimes it’s better to step off the…
