"Cute? Let me tell you...puppies are cute, panties that say Tuesday are cut, and drinks that come with little paper umbrellas are cut. You are not cute. Your are wickedly handsome." p. 3

She could tick off on one hand the things that truly made her nervous: the dentist, signing her name to her income tax statement, looking in her rearview mirror and seeing a police cruiser—and Steve Crow. p. 12

She had a soft spot in her heart for dogs and old people. Steve thought that was nice. He wondered how she felt about minorities. Probably, she loved minorities. He was a shoo-in, he decided. He'd buy a dog, introduce her to his grandparents, then show her his bedroom. p. 16

Actually, they were terrible, but he wasn't completely stupid. He didn't destroy a fledgling reporter's confidence with harsh criticism, and he didn't insult a woman with...