Do I Look Like A Mess?” She

When A Man Writes A Romance, The Woman Dies. When A Woman Writes One, It Ends All Tidy And Sweet.

What Happened To Your Face?" Harriet Asked. "it Was A Misunderstanding," Daniel Said Smoothly, Wondering How Long It Might Take For His Bruises To Heal. He Did Not Think He Was Particularly Vain, But The Questions Were Growing Tiresome. "a Misunderstanding?" Elizabeth Echoed. "with An Anvil?" "oh, Stop," Harriet Admonished Her. "i Think He Looks Very Dashing." "as If He Dashed Into An Anvil." "pay No Attention," Harriet Said To Him. "she Lacks Imagination.

Love Was The Best Present Of All.

To Say That Men Can Be Bullheaded Would Be Insulting To The Bull.

I Shall Have One, Too," He Told Her. "so That You Don't Feel Alone." She Tried Not To Smile. "that Is Most Generous Of You." "i Am Quite Certain It Is My Gentlemanly Duty." "to Eat Cake?" "it Is One Of The More Appealing Of My Gentlemanly Duties," He Allowed.