I’m real, they’re not – I think.

“Damn him!” I slam the table so hard my hand hurts. “How can he do that? Bloody idiot of a man!” I go on, muttering a number of creative expletives before returning to my editing. “You wrote that,” my husband protests mildly from his side of the table. “And will you stop whacking at the […]

I’m real, they’re not – I think. Read More »