Random Snippets Of Books I Might Write: #1
“Gilda, you must return with me to Brooklyn. My brother has a farm there, we can live in a cabin by the lake and be happy.” He grabbed Gilda’s shoulders. It had always been a bad habit, but his sense of decorum had long since left him at this point. He was in love, probably, and he couldn’t bear to stop. “Charles, you know I can’t do that. I’m a nun, now, and it wouldn’t be kosher. What would God…