You can park your snark at the gate, Omaha.

With Attachments, my goal was to write a really good romantic comedy. I wanted the reader to be smiling throughout.

I don’t like you, Park. Sometimes I think I live for you

You’re a sad little hermit, and it creeps me out.

These things end,” she said. “They always end. Nobody marries their first love. First love is just that. First. It’s implied that something else will follow.

That girl--all of them--hated Eleanor before they'd even laid eyes on her. Like they'd been hired to kill her in a past life.

"What about him?" she’d say, finding an attractive guy to point out while they were standing in the lunch line. "Do you want to kiss him?" "I don’t want to kiss a stranger," Cath would answer. "I’m not interested in lips out of context."