“I was just going to tell Bex that Nicholas is the patron saint of archers, hence the massive shrubbery up there.” Clive grinned. “He’s also the patron saint of repentant thieves, but that’s harder to capture in horticultural form.” — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“Too right. A woman can’t bloody well pick her signature drink without sampling the whole bar.” Not” — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“I can’t,” I argued, faint with rising panic. “Everyone will be watching me, waiting to see if I’ll crack. I’m not making that up,… — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“I fell in love with a person, not a prince; the rest is just circumstance.” — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“How did you not know they broke up? You usually monitor his social media like he's al-Qaeda and you're the CIA.” — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“I was just going to tell Bex that Nicholas is the patron saint of archers, hence the massive shrubbery up there.” Clive grinned. “He’s… — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“Nick looked as surprised as if I’d just handed him my acceptance letter to Hogwarts” — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“Hang on, you can’t punish a man for being in love,” Gaz shouted. “Love means nothing in tennis,” I said. “Literally, in fact.” — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
“Skirts must fall no higher than the vaguely defined just above the knee, and hats must have a base of four inches or larger… — Heather Cocks Copy Share Image
