He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not – By Breathless Press Authors

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
What flower would you tear apart to find out?
From Breathless Press

If I had to choose a flower to tear apart to find out who truly loved me, I’d choose a branch of blooming lilac. Each flower has tiny petals, giving me hundreds of chances to discover the truth. And as I plucked one petal at a time, the romantic fragrance of the lilacs would inspire me and I’d have more ideas for future romance novels. Lilacs are magical and symbolize love, so I’d hope to find my true love before I reached the last tiny bloom.—Molly Diamond, author of Emerald Fire, the prequel to the Fire and Ice Saga.

It’s hard to decide which flower to use with so many beauties to choose from, but if I had to, I’d pick a single white rose. Fragrant and delicate, there’s a blush of pink in the petals as I pluck them, drawing closer to the heart of the rose and my answer. I like to use this same sense of beauty and expectancy in my love stories, bringing my characters to the brink of wonder and yearning in the climax.—Dianne Hartsock, author of Shelton in Love, Breathless Press

If I had to choose a flower to tear apart to find out if he truly loved me, I would choose a Gardenia flower. I would pick the flower late at night, and pluck the petals as I walked in the moonlight. Each fragrant petal would drift from my fingers until the answer to my heart’s desire revealed itself. Mary Corrales, author of Tasting Camilla.

I would choose a rose. What better way to discover love than with the scent of roses and the feel of the silky petals. And even if you don’t find love, your fingers smell great for hours afterward. April Dawn – Crushing Desire

Wildflowers, because we all need a little more wild in our love lives. Ava Delany – Dominated –

To find out if he truly loved me, I would pick the petals of a magnolia bloom, one by one. Their sweet scent and thick, waxy leaves remind of a hot summer day in the South. And that’s just how I like my men: hot and Southern. I’d sit on the bank of a babbling river and dip my toes in the cool, crisp water. The magnolia is associated with nobility, perseverance and love of nature. And who can resist a sexy nobleman who won’t give up a fight? – Carrie Pulkinen, author of To Catch a Spirit.

What a shame it is to pull the petals, but no finer flower to pluck than the tulip. This symbolic flower continues to grow in water even after it is cut, curving its heavy head toward light. No matter the color, a tulip means ‘perfect lover.’ That is what Machias is to Kara in my story, Basket of Hope. Just as the tulip curves to sunlight, Kara draws to Machias. Their love continues to grow once cut free from its earthly hold. This book wont be out till Summer.
JM Powers

“When I was a kid my sister and I would pull apart flowers and play
‘he loves me’. We’d pick the flowers that we could easily tell how
many petals were on them so we could always get the results we wanted.
All grown up, I think I’d use a dandelion. Dandelions grow all over,
are hard as heck to kill and look cheerful right until they turn into
fuzzies. I like thinking of love having that kind of generosity,
perseverance and attitude. There would always be a way to get a ‘he
loves me’ with a dandelion.” Stephanie Beck author of Cross-Stitch and

In my youth I’d have chosen buttercups, or blushing violets, but that was when I wasn’t as experienced and wise in the ways of the world as I am now. It’s been a good many years since I’ve been tempted to shred flowers in a moment of uncertainty. My SO is a mathematician and a scientist, and when I asked him for his advice, he said two things. “Leave my rosebushes alone, ” and “You’d better come up with the right answer.” So, thinking to stack the deck in my favor, and taking a scientific approach, I found a flower with only one petal. That’s the one I’d choose. The mai makhaa blossom is native to Thailand and apparently has only one petal and four sepia. The certainty of that one petal, the assurance that yes, he loves me, is a beautiful thing. — @`~~ Lee Brazil author of Keeping House, Book #1 of Truth or Dare from Breathless Press


I’m impatient, so I’d tend toward something with only a few petals. A tulip, maybe, or a bluebell. Something I could rip through in about half a second. In fact, what would be the absolute best is if I could just buy an iPhone app that would do it for me. “Does he love me, iPhone?” ::iPhone dings:: “Yes, he does.” It would also link to my Twitter account. “iFlower says: He loves you, @camrynrhys.” Done, and done. ~Camryn Rhys, author of The Barn Dance

I would choose a daisy to tear apart, not in my quest to find out if he loved me, but as a seductive tease to tempt the one I love. One. Little. Petal. At. A…Time.—AbbyWood, author of To Play or Obey, Book One of Peckerwood

If I had to choose a flower to tear apart, I’d pick the hibiscus. I would tear the petals off in front of the man I love, secretly knowing there are five petals and it’ll always land on…he loves me. —Debra Kayn, Author of Betraying the Prince

To be honest, I wouldn’t want to destroy a flower just to hear who truly loved me (even if sometimes the mischievous and regal orchids look like they’re hiding a secret). Flowers are beautiful and fragrant just as is, and oh, so delicate. I’d feel too guilty reducing them to potpourri. Can I shake a magic eight ball for the answer instead?
–L.K. Below, author of Cinnamon and Spice

To find out if someone loved me, I would choose to tear apart the tropical plumeria. Dozens of the flowers surround my neck in a fragrent lei. I would release one by one the beautiful petals into the tropical wind. If the petals fly back to me, I would know that I was loved. Rebecca Leigh, author of Room Number Twelve.

If I had to choose a flower to tear apart in order to find out who truly loved me, I’d choose a sunflower. They’re big and bright, and after plucking off all the petals, if there was no one standing around that truly loved me I would get to eat all the sunflower seeds myself. — Casey Sheridan, author of Ruby Red Metallic,

If I were to choose a flower to find out who loves me,who loves me not, the flower would come from a pincushion cactus. The road to happy ever after is often a thorny, prickly ride, but, like love, even under extremely unfavorable conditions, the cactus flower will bloom in spite of nature’s challenges. With each petal-pluck of this hardy, beautiful flower, I would consider the qualities I want in my true love: resilience in the face of adversity, courage, honesty, integrity, sense of humor, compassion, and commitment. Once I held the petals in my hand, I would close my eyes, make a wish for my true love to find me, and then toss the petals to the whim of the prairie wind, which would take my wish with the breeze to my true love’s heart. Kaye Spencer, author of Gambling with Love, an erotic western.

The Hydrangea by Em Petrova, author of Tattoo Dream and The French Kiss Chronicles

Picking apart a hydrangea would be a tedious job, but when you’re talking about love, it’s the only way. The mop heads of hydrangeas are made up of many tiny flowers. In this case they represent the intricate components of a relationship. Toward the center of the head, the fertile flowers grow, and as you move outward, the small blooms get larger and sterile, just as a loving relationship does. Finding the core of your relationship will bring deeper feelings of love and connection. The outer edge—while part of the relationship—can leave you feeling detached.

Tattoo Dream:

Berengaria would use sunflowers to play, “I love you, I love you not”. For a start, they’re nice, big petals and remind her of other nice, big things. Secondly, she loves flowers, and couldn’t possibly destroy one by pulling its petals off. With sunflowers, it’s easy to keep track of which petal has been counted. Finally, the bright, happy, yellow faces insist that whatever decision the petals come to, happiness in the future is assured.
“Carnal Connections” Berengaria Brown


I’d never rip a poor unsuspecting flower to shreds. Romance is about hope and optimism. I’d choose to believe he loved me until he told me otherwise. For the record, my favorite flower is the Sunflower. It’s the only flower that follows the sun. Ever come across a field of them, they are all facing the same direction. It’s lovely.

Vee Michaels is the author of Toy Training (and coming soon Sex-O-Matic)



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