“I thought you were sleepy, Jack,” she said weakly. “Not anymore. Randy as a goat, sweetheart. Now, are you coming to bed, or am I going to have to wrestle you to the floor in order to have my wicked… — Danice Allen Copy Share Image
“Despite the crushing weight of the expectations placed on her, from the theological to the self-inflicted, what I needed was the last, selfless thought in her sleepy head.” — Tammara Webber Copy Share Image
