I Got It This Time, Daddy Warbucks,"

She's Not Your Type. Since When Do I Have A Type?

She Was Getting Bitchy.that Was A Good Sign. "what Am I Supposed To Do Till You Get Back?" I Said, Patting The Smouldering Leather. "hide In My Closet? I"d Rather Be With You.

He Froze As The Scent Of Her Hair Met Him. It Was Touching His Cheek,tickling Him. I Cant Afford This, He Thought, But He Didnt Move, Watching Her Finger Trace The New Line. "he Cracked My Mirror,"she Said, Clearly Angry.

I Wish I Could Say I Write 9-5. It's Usually More Like 8-6, Every Day But The Weekends.

Just Because I Don't Wear My Heart On My Sleeve - " "you Don't Even Wear Your Heart In Your Chest.