I Don't Think Of Myself As A

I Don't Damsel Well. Distress, I Can Do. Damseling? Not So Much.

That'd Be Just What I Need: A Rash Of Car Thefts Across America, Committed By Dedicated Readers.

I Muttered A Swear Word To Myself. After I Heard Angel Cussing Like A Sailor When She Stubbed Her Toe, My New Resolution Was To Watch My Language. All I Needed Was A Six-year-old Mutant With A Potty Mouth

He Nuzzled My Neck, Inhaling Deeply. “mmm. You Smell So Good.” “oh, Yeah,” I Said, Smirking. “i Call This New Perfume ‘le Jungle Grime Et Tropical Bo.’ ” “dirt And Sweat. Very Sexy.

We'll All Go Out Together When We Go. Yes, We'll All Go Out Together When We Go. Oh, How The World Will Die From Great Fire In The Sky. Yes, We'll All Go Out Together When We Go." (total) Call Me Old Fashioned But I'll Take 'she'll Be Coming 'round The Mountain' Any Day.