Bubba made a sound of disapproval "You're not supposed to be kissing on anybody else, Miss Sookie" he said "Bill said it was okay, but I don't like it.

As it was, I couldn't escape the feeling that I was out of my element. I found myself thinking of a book I'd left half-read at home and wishing I'd stuck it in my purse so I could pull it out now.

Eric was holding my hands, and I was digging my nails into him like we were doing something else. He won't mind, I though, as I realized I'd drawn blood. And sure enough, he didn't. "Let go," he advised me, and I loosened my grip on his hands. "No, not of me," he said smiling. "You can hold on to me as long as you want.

If it pleases you and you can write at all, it's gonna please somebody else.

Of course I am grateful, and I'm sure you are, as you put it, a special vintage," Bill said politely, "But I have my own wine cellar.

I don't write the kind of 'happily ever after' that romance readers enjoy.

Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled. I'd finally found something Eric did poorly.