“Darcy was floating, soaring. Warrick’s kiss was sensual, carnal. It aroused her, inflamed her. His touch was just as wickedly delightful. His hands stroked her back, her butt, holding her tight, as if he couldn’t fathom releasing her. She never wanted the kiss to end. It was too good, too … perfect

“Darcy was floating, soaring. Warrick’s kiss was sensual, carnal. It aroused her, inflamed her. His touch was just as wickedly delightful. His hands stroked her back, her butt, holding her tight, as if he couldn’t fathom releasing her. She never wanted the kiss to end. It was too good, too … perfect (Donna Grant, Soul Scorched”)

No one, I fancy, would discredit a story that the Archbishop of Canterbury slipped on a banana skin merely because he found that a similar comic mishap had been reported of many people, and especially of elderly gentlemen of dignity

No one, I fancy, would discredit a story that the Archbishop of Canterbury slipped on a banana skin merely because he found that a similar comic mishap had been reported of many people, and especially of elderly gentlemen of dignity

No one, I fancy, would discredit a story that the Archbishop of Canterbury slipped on a banana skin merely because he found that a similar comic mishap had been reported of many people, and especially of elderly gentlemen of dignity (J.R.R. Tolkien, Tree and Leaf: Includes Mythopoeia and The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth)