Rule Of Life. If You Bother To

Hi." "hi." I Shrug, As Though To Say "whatever." In My Peripheral Vision I Can See Magnus Exhale. He Looks A Teeny Bit Nervous. "so." "so." I Can Play This Game Too. "poppy." "poppy. I Mean, Magnus." I Scowl. He Caught Me Out.

It Was In The Forest. No One Saw It Or Heard It. So Did It Actually Happen?

Visiting Any Shop For The First Time Is Exciting. There's Always That Buzz As You Push Open The Door; That Hope; That Belief - That This Is Going To Be The Shop Of All Shops, Which Will Bring You Everything You Ever Wanted, At Magically Low Prices.

Just Because Of That One Disastrous Blind Date She Had Last Year, Where The Guy Turned Out To Be Fifty-nine, Not Thirty-nine (he Claimed It Was A Typo. Yeah, I’m Sure His Finger Just Happened To Slip Two Spaces To The Left).

I Always Thought 'chick Lit' Meant Third-person Contemporary Funny Novels, Dealing With Issues Of The Day. I Mean, It's Not The Ideal Term; When I'm Asked To Describe What I Do, I Say I Write Romantic Comedies, Cause That's What I Feel They Are. But I'm Quite Pragmatic.