Nicholas wanted to believe in fairy tales. She'd read her share, hoping for miracles, but in the end, there was no hundred acre wood to play in with her little stuffed animals. There was pain and crushing disillusionment and betrayal.

You are such a chicken. Bock. Bock. Bock." He refused to allow her very bad chicken impression to ruffle his feathers. He was above petty name-calling.

Amanda Ashley is a master storyteller.

-She is like the wind, open and free. If I cage the wind, would it die? -Then don't cage it, Mikhail. Trust it to stay beside you.

You are the leader here. Obviiusly your skills are far superior to mine. I don't think I could fit into your life. I'm a loner, not the first lady.

Everyone knows ladies love Cajuns. It's in our blood and our language is the language of romance." "Your language is the language of bullshit. You're just a couple of good ole boys with pretty faces. Women just ought to know better.

But I'm not any better at relationships than you are. We'll find our way together, even if we're fumbling around in the dark for a while.