I decided to write category romance as I'd recently discovered them, and enjoyed them.

He Sipped his coffee, watched the flames. "You gave me my life, you did," He insisted when Summerset made a protesting sound. "And I worked-in my fashion- to build this place. I asked you to tend it for me. You've never let me down. But I needed her. The one thing, the only thing that could make this place home." "She's not what I would have chosen for you" "Oh, that I know" "But she's right for you. The one for you." Despite, or maybe due to, her many flaws" "I imagine she thinks the same thing about you". Memory in Death, Roarke and Summerset

Three weeks hadn't changed Cop Central. The coffee was still poisonous, the noise abominable, and the view out of her stingy window was still miserable. She was thrilled to be back.

Plus it's just embarrassing when someone - oops.' She pressed a hand to her side, and had the blood draining out of Harper's face. 'What? What?' 'Nothing. baby's moving around. Sometimes it gives me a jolt is all.' 'You should stand up. You should sit down.

I write every day. Even if I'm not writing well, I write through it. I can fix a bad page. I can't fix a blank one.

Why is it you think you'll live forever and why do you want to, I'd like to know, when you deny yourselves so many of the basic pleasures in life?

The man was useless as tits on a bull, but he didn't deserve to die like that.