If you want to be a writer-- stop talking about it! Sit down and write. -Jackie Collins

If Blake thought she was going to be some meek, mealy-mouthedpushover grateful for his dick and his non-apologies, he obviously didn’t know what it took to make a room full of tenth graders pay attention.

Good humour was miles behind a second cup of morning tea. It was too early for nonsense.

Kissing Bennet is like stepping into the lake. At first shocking, then slowly I acclimate until I’m sinking into the luxury of it. His hand wraps around my ribs, right below the swell of my breast, and I’m in way over my head, drowning in the sensations that overrun my body. No one has ever kissed me like this. Not even Andrew in all my wildest fantasies. Andrew. Andrew! Oh my gosh, what am I doing?