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122 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 15, 2014


“Are you going to cuss like that in front of the children?”
He shrugged. “I’ll try not to.”
“It’s disrespectful.”
He nodded a couple of times. “Okay. Fair enough. I’ll try to clean up my language. Happy?”
“Not even close.”
He barked out a laugh. “You have a wicked sense of humor, Bev. Who knew?”



"Your dad is a son-of-a-bitch. He has no social skills, hates visitors and is down-right combative when anyone tries to tell him what to do."

They’d asked Tom to host. He figured what the hell, he’d throw a bird on his grill with a beer in its ass and slide a can of cranberry onto a plate. Mrs. Anderson, Karen’s mom, would be horrified. Which made the whole decable even more appealing. She was so buttoned up …..and the ladies would clean the colossal mess he was sure to make in the kitchen

APPLES SHOULD BE RED

The colors of autumn jewels

“For Christ's sake, Bev. You're not that old. Late fifties isn't old. Ninety-five is old. I'm sixty-two and still sprightly.”
‘(...) and Bev had a inkling what Eve felt like. Seduced by a plump, juicy fruit, by the touch of his hands, sweet and tart, sour and tangy.’
‘She felt the brush of that touch all the way down to her polished toes, all the way to the top of her salon-perfect hair, to every fiery nerve in her body.’
"I don't like yellow or green apples. Apples should be red."
"What? That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"And you think I had animosity toward my husband? Is that what you think? Not, I might add, that it's any of your business. And it's extremely poor manners to discuss this at the dinner table."
"You wanna talk about it on the porch?"




It was funny.
It was sweet.
It was endearing.
And most of all it made me laugh.

“Everyone has a colorful neighborhood, Bev. You just gotta look for the colors.”

“Your dad is a son-of-a-bitch. He has no social skills, hates visitors, and is down-right combative when anyone tries to tell him what to do.”

“My mom is polite to a fault, wants to please everyone, and gives advice like Dear Freakin ’ Abby .”



“I guess I’m a late bloomer.”
“I sure like you blooming with me, Bev.”


“Your dad is a son-of-a-bitch. He has no social skills, hates visitors, and is down-right combative when anyone tries to tell him what to do.My mom is polite to a fault, wants to please everyone, and gives advice like Dear Freakin’ Abby. Those two are going to kill each other after spending three days together.





He couldn't believe how badly he wanted to spank that sexy little ass

And at the end I smiled like a frickin Goblin *sigh*