“If this was a romance novel, we’d kiss. That’s what always happens – the gumptious heroine meets her match in the first chapter. A meet-cute. Something memorable. Remarkable. In old Harlequins, we’d be intimate by page one hundred, and a part of me intimately wanted to know what it felt like to unbutton this stranger’s shirt. To let go of this plot and just fall headfirst into someone else’s.”
