He should have seen this coming, but he hadn't. Of course she wouldn't want to move back to Wynette after everything that had happened to her there. But what about his family, his friends, his roots, which stretched so deep into that rocky soil he'd become part of it?

Pride had kept her running when love had betrayed her.

Now, now. Southern ladies don’t French-kiss and tell.

I don't care how much evidence the state presented. I've never for one moment believed he murdered that waitress.

I write about the men you want to read about but don't necessarily want to be married to.

I can’t chitchat and make breakfast at the same time. You could help, you know, instead of standing there like the Queen of England. Although you’re a lot better-looking.

For a moment he could have sworn he smelled violets, which was very peculiar, since he had no idea what violets smelled like, except somehow he knew they smelled just like Lady Emma.