Sublime

Victor set his pen aside and rolled a bag of bagels across the counter toward her. In the corner of the kitchen sat several bags of groceries. He nodded at them. “Don’t know what you eat, so…” “I’m not a puppy,” she said, fighting back a smile.

The name Isolde Ophelia Goodnight did rather spell a life of tragedy.

And if it was for any sort of a fine handsome woman, but for a little fistful of a woman like Kitty Keary, that’s not four feet high hardly, and not three teeth in her head unless she got new ones!