Tag Archives: How they met

“Wow,” she said, sitting down.  “You’re beautiful.  Supernaturally beautiful.  What are you?” “Please sit down,” he said, smiling at her. “What’s your deal?” “My deal?” “Yeah, I mean no one looks the way you do, at least no one human.” … Continue reading →

“Dance with me?” he asked, holding out his hand. “I promise to be…polite.” She stood up.  “Well, if you promise,” she said, grinning. It was a slow song, so he pulled her toward him, just shy of, too close. “Tell … Continue reading →

“Liz,” he said, bending down to kiss her on the cheek, before pulling out a chair and sitting down.  “Who’s your friend?” “Scottie, this is my brother, Luke.  Luke, this is my friend Scottie.” The men nodded at each other … Continue reading →

“Uh, is that a dead body?” she asked. “I sure hope so, because otherwise the guy should be groaning and wondering why there’s a knife was sticking out of his chest,” laughed the man.  “Thanks for stopping by work with … Continue reading →

“Can I help you?” she asked, at the end of her ten hour shift. “Can you?”  he asked. She had been through this with guys before.  “Depends,” she sighed, looking at the line behind him.  “If you want a book, … Continue reading →

“OMG! I’M SO SORRY!” she said, watching the coffee soak through his shirt.  “I just turned around and you were right behind me, and….  Please forgive me,” she continued, pressing a wad of napkins against his chest.  Let me buy … Continue reading →

“Have you been to many of these parties?”  he asked, sipping his drink. “I have, actually,” she said.  “But I don’t recall seeing you before.” “You haven’t.  I just moved here and Megan, a friend of mine since childhood, brought … Continue reading →

“Do you cook?” asked the clerk, looking at the breadboard, bread knife, large spreading knife and two dishtowels that said I LOVE Bread, that she put on the counter. “Define the word cook.” “To cook, to have cooked, to be … Continue reading →

Fiction Page took over the bookshop from her mother, who had a sense of humor when it came to naming her only child.  Fiction grew up in the shop. Her father, an overnight romance while her mother was in Paris … Continue reading →

“Dance with me,” he said,  holding out his hand. She took it, stood up, and walked into his arms.  They danced for awhile, then she pulled away and sat down. “I’ve never danced with a stranger in the shoe department … Continue reading →