Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war

Sometimes you loose a battle. But mischief always wins a war.

This one’s for Alaska Young!

I’m really not up for answering any questions that start with how, when, where, why or what.

Her underwear, her jeans, the comforter, my corduroys and my boxers between us, I thought. Five layers, and yet I felt it, the nervous warmth of touching – a pale reflection of the fireworks of...

She’d obviously read the book many times before, and so she read flawlessly and confidently, and I could hear her smile in the reading of it, and the sound of that smile made me think...