Romance novels are birthday cake and life is often peanut butter and jelly. I think everyone should have lots of delicious romance novels lying around for those times when the peanut butter of life gets stuck to the roof of your mouth.

Everyone knows that if you buy chocolate with spare change, then the calories don't count.

Tastykakes are just another of the many advantages of living in Jersey. They’re made in Philly and shipped to Trenton in all their fresh squishiness. I read once that 439,000 Butterscotch Krimpets are baked every day. And not a heck of a lot of them find their way to New Hampshire. All that snow and scenery and what good does it do you without Tastykakes?

The note wasn't signed, but I could tell it was from Morelli by the way my nipples got hard.

Fine. Let Ranger get someone else. Trust me, you don't want to be out looking for a parking place on Sloane in the middle of the night." I won't have to look for a parking place. Tank's picking me up. Your working with a guy name Tank? He's big. Jesus, Morelli said. I had to fall in love with a woman who works with a guy named Tank. You love me? Of course i love you. I just don't want to marry you.

[Ranger] "How's your mental health?" he asked. "I heard about Soder." [Stephanie] "I'm rattled." "I have a cure." Oh, boy. He put the truck in gear and headed for the exit. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "And that wasn't where I was going. I was going to suggest work." "I knew that." He looked over at me and grinned. "You want me bad." I did. God help me.

I hate mornings. They start so early.