Because he was different, the bus conductor let a lofty hope bud within him, a hope too high for his type: love.
Because he was different, the bus conductor let a lofty hope bud within him, a hope too high for his type: love.
It had been three months since the last time I heard Om Sagda’s screams. I marked those empty days on the calendar.
The idea that this champagne was a preamble made her treacherously horny.
Tony was a divorcee and men like that often had no qualms about walking a second time.
She said he was quiet when her husband gave up his job at Dinah and followed another woman home.
