As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. I’m a female thing at bottom. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. Mr. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. ” He looked into her pale blue eyes. I won't dig their graves with my nails.
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