Nancy ♦ July 6, 2012 ♦ 30 Comments
Years ago I was in love with an uncaring snob. (I called him Bluto in my post, “Kissing Frogs”; not because he was a bully like Popeye’s Bluto or gross like Belushi’s Bluto. He was oblivious Bluto.) To say our relationship was one-sided is a pathetic understatement. I was in love. He barely remembered my name. …
A Coming of Age novel set in 1969
A love story about the changing role of women after WWI
If they both get what they want, does it matter if their scheme is slightly illegal?
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