To Call That Writing, Madam,

James Started To Laugh. His Chin Hurt Where She'd Smacked Him Twice, His Foot Throbbed Where She'd Stepped On It, And His Entire Body Felt As If He'd Swum Through A Rosebush, Which Wasn't As Far Off The Truth As It Sounded. Yet Still He Started To Laugh.

Very Well,” He Said With A Small Sigh. “ladies Today Are So Very Capable. It Breaks My Hea Rt, Really.” He Leaned In, Almost As If Sharing A Secret. “no One Likes To Feel Superfluous.” Grace Just Stared At Him. “rendered Mute By My Grace And Charm,” He Said, Stepping Back To Allow Them To Exit. “it Happens All The Time. Really, I Shouldn‟t Be Allowed Near The Ladies. I Have Such A Vexing Effect On You.

I’m Not Certain You’d Know The Right Sort Of Man For You If He Arrived On Our Doorstep Riding An Elephant.” “i Would Think The Elephant Would Be A Fairly Good Indication That I Ought To Look Elsewhere.

The Biggest Challenge Of My Career, Which Is Something That Authors Of Genre Fiction Face All The Time, Is Writing Something Fresh And New And At The Same Time Meeting Reader Expectations.

...i Do Not Tell You Often Enough, Dear Mother, How Very Grateful I Am That I Am Yours. It Is A Rare Parent Who Would Offer A Child Such Latitude And Understanding. It Is An Even Rarer One Who Calls A Daughter Friend. I Do Love You, Dear Mama.