Devil's Breath

Danny sat hunched over his writing desk. He’d been there for so long that the cushion no longer snapped back to its original state. The edge of the desk was discolored and worn from the decades where his wrists rubbed against the wood as he frantically wrote, filling notebook after notebook with words that came to him faster than his hands could move.
This one is for the dreamers
For the star-crossed lovers who never met
For the hopelessly hopeful
And for the agonizingly lonely
This book is for those whose hearts are too heavy
This one is for every person who has felt the sting of unrequited love
I wrote this book for you
For those of you who have grasped at love, but never felt it
I wrote this for those who have never seen his face
Yet you have felt the Devil’s Breath