C. Scott Publishing Corp.

“I played the mother who was dying of tuberculosis. You had your nose in a crossword puzzle the entire time.”

Oh. That play. “I might have missed some of that one. In my defense, I had just found crassword puzzles. Come on…three-letter word for something that goes in dry and hard, but comes out wet and soft? I was busy counting the letters in dick, cock, pecker, and prick a dozen times each before figuring out the answer was gum.”

“You’re such a perv.”

I gave her a chaste kiss. “Where are we going for dinner, Chip?”

Even though I’d worked eighty hours a week the last few years to get where I was, the men who worked thirty were the first ones to blame my success on my magical vagina. Screw them.

Just because you’re physically thousands of miles away doesn’t mean your hearts are.

Opening the lines of communication can fix a lot of things.

Sometimes a spark turns into a fire.

Blowing out someone else’s candle doesn’t make you shine brighter.

Anyone can become a father, but it takes a real dad to love and raise a child as his own.”

Drew was right. The best way to get to know someone was to steal glances at their pictures.

He shook his head and laughed. “A good ass is your kryptonite, my friend.”

Just because you’re physically thousands of miles away doesn’t mean your hearts are. You should each take time to let the other know you’re thinking of them