- No, no... She shook her head for emphasis. No. His lips twitched. - One 'no' is enough, darling.

A lang, lang time ago…” MacPhee began, ignoring St.Vincent’s low groan, “there was a bonnie maid called Malvina. She was the betrothed of Oscar, the braw warrior who won her heart. Oscar bade his beloved tae wait for him while he went tae seek his fortune. But one black day Malvina received word that her lover had been killed in battle. He would lie forever in eternal rest in the faraway hills…lost in endless slumber…” “God, I envy him,” St. Vincent said feelingly, rubbing his own dark-circled eyes.

It's the perfect solution. We argue all the time. We can't stand each other. It's like we're already married.

I’ve told you before, I love like a madman,” he said. “Immoderate, jealous, possessive...I’m absolutely intolerable.

A woman could do that to you - reach that place in your soul where the best and worst of you was kept. And once she was there, she owned that place and never left.

I always counsel aspiring novelists that passion is the most important quality for a writer to possess - technique can be taught, but that relentless desire to write has to come from within.

If I never have anything from him except this one moment I am going to take it. Take it now, or drown in regret later.