In The Summer Of 80, Silhouette Bought

My Fondest Wish, I Suppose, Would Be To Die At The Keyboard Right After Finishing A Book, Perhaps With A Little Time Off To Have Some Really Good Sex. It's Not, 'oh, Thank God, This Is Book No. 250. I Can Die Now.'

If Something Isn't Special, Then It's Ordinary.

Don't 'honey' Me In That Southern-fried Twang.

She's In Love, And That Makes Her Strong. She'll Need To Be." "what Makes You Strong, Mia?" "purpose. Love Never Worked For Me.

Oh, God. God, Isn't That Perfect? He's Dad. He's Dad With A Layer Of Nerd. Solid, Steady, Chipping Away So Patiently, You Don't Even Know You've Had Your Shields Hacked Down Until You're Defenseless. It's The Type." "you're Not In Love With A Type, You're In Love With A Man," Penny Corrected. "or You're Not.