He slid the photo out and raised it. The sun washed out any distinguishable characteristics. All except her eyes. He didn’t need a picture to remember those. As turquoise as the waters near Cozumel, and...

At least that left hope for him. Except “Beauty and the Geek” wasn’t exactly the proper translation of the popular fairy tale.

This was sharing office space with wacko and bordering on ludicrous.

Calm down. Ghosts don’t ring the doorbell.

It took a pair of ghosts to open my eyes.

Considering I’m a writer, you leave me strangely bereft of words.

A city full of eight million people. It was all rather lonely sometimes.

Maybe he was going to hell. Except, he could’ve sworn that was where he’d been the past ten years.

She knew her place in this family, always had. Knew why she was conceived. And it wasn’t for a photo on the mantle.

He looks at you like you’re crème brûlée.

This.” He closed his mouth over hers.

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was going out with a rifle in his hand.

Maybe pulling her emotions out and inserting in his logic would change this morbid course. But damn if he’d joke about it like she did.