Gentlemen,—Mr. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. His hands reached under her skirt. “In all fairness,” she thought to herself as she coaxed his mouth toward her left nipple. She rose and attacked Lucy, kicking her with the grafted leg that was too big for her body. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. “More coffee, hon?” She held her hand over the cup. It’s not far from twilight.
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