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793 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 19, 2016
lol“Chains of gold are still chains.”

“Life is not about living the safer option. Life is about living a life worth living.”
“So we have one more thing on our to-do list. Achieve women's suffrage and get the inventor of solid chocolate bars knighted for his achievements.”
“A man.
A really manly man with a lot of mannishness in his manliness.”


‘Knowledge is power is time is money!’

I remain Sincerely Yours Miss Lilly Linton
.............................................................
And incidentally, I do not want you as mine, sincerely or otherwise. Rikkard Ambrose
.............................................................
Yours (as your secretary, whether you like it or not) Lilly Linton
‘You know, Mr Linton, you have a way of saying “Sir” that makes it sound astonishingly like a synonym for “miserable chauvinist worm”.’
‘I wonder why that is.’
Yours always (Which means you’re not getting rid of me!) Miss Lilly Linton

A moment later, the door opened and he stood before me: Mr Rikkard Ambrose in all his cold, stony glory. His eyes were like dark pools of unfathomable deep water. His mouth could have been carved from granite. And his lips…
He seemed to radiate negative noise.
Mr Linton,
Please correct your address of me to coincide with the truth. I am not ‘dear’ to anyone, least of all, I am sure, to you. Also, it is my ink you are wasting by writing unnecessary words. A bottle of ink costs 3 pence apiece. Therefore, I order you to refrain from all endearments in the future.
‘Mr Linton?’
‘I can feel your smile. Dispose of it immediately.’
I waved my arms, making the uniform stretch uncomfortably. ‘The uniform is rather tight over my other clothes.’
‘It may surprise you to hear this, Mr Linton, but I do not care. This is not a Paris fashion show.’
‘N-no, Sir. I simply find it rather hot in here. Don’t you, Sir?’
‘To be absolutely accurate, I could not care less about the climatic conditions in here, Mr Linton.’
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“What was it that caught your fancy? Her figure? Her eyes?’
‘Her eyes. And her figure, too. And her dress, her manners, and her… well, she does not have anything more to catch fancies with, but all that she does have is very fancy-catching. You could say that I have passionately fallen in love with the entirety of her, not just the individual components.’
‘But you like her eyes.’
‘Yes, indeed.’
‘What is so special about them?’ I demanded to know, still not daring to look up. I had a suspicion why my eyes were stinging, and if it was correct I wanted nothing less than for him to see my face right now. ‘I saw nothing extraordinary about them!’
He cleared his throat again. ‘Well… they look very… very ocular, for one thing.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘Pardon?’
‘This word, “ocular”. What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It is Latin. It is a word denoting everything that refers to eyes.’
‘So… what you’re in fact saying is that what’s special about her eyes is that they look very much like eyes.”
“Gesturing to Karim. ‘I can’t let you walk into danger with only him around for protection.’
The Mohammedan’s eyes bulged, and I fancy he would have said something pretty explicit, had not Mr Ambrose spoken first.”
“A few minutes later a cough distracted me, and I looked up only to be confronted with another officer asking me to dance. I turned him down like a bedspread. And the one after that. And the one after the one after that. And the other gentlemen who followed, from captains to colonels, from misters to majors. It was amazing - the more of them I sent packing, the more seemed to pop up everywhere. You’d think that by now they would have gotten the message.”
“I would prefer a sword to fight a duel, but a pen to plan a war.”Initial review posted on March 9th 2016.
“Knowledge is power is time is money.”





“That’s exactly what I intend! Votes, ladies and gentlemen, votes for women!”






The world around me seemed to be lit in colors brighter than the sun, and he was the brightest of all. Damn him.

On the rare occasions that I glanced between the covers of a romance novel, I had chanced upon an expression that seemed to be a favorite with romantic writers - lips 'melting together'.
Well, our lips didn't melt. They collided. They collided like a ship and an iceberg. They collided like two stars, one red hot, one icy blue. They collided like two wolves, bent on devouring each other. And so did we.

The hard muscles of his chest, his arms, his abdomen... they all pressed into my softness in a way that made it all too clear what he was.
A man.
A really manly man with a lot of mannishness in his manliness.


His blue-green eyes were dark pools of immeasurable depth, pools you could drown yourself in and never again come up for air.

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I cannot and will not accept a female secretary. I will not be made a fool of in front of the entire city. Either you come dressed as a man, or you never return.

Now that you are regularly running around in men’s clothes you might as well claim male privileges, such as shooting anybody whose face you didn’t like.


An image flashed in front of my eyes: I, entering the big hall downstairs, in an undoubtedly feminine dress, my head held high, going up to work for one of London’s most powerful businessmen. The first ever lady to earn her own way in this world...

Oh how I would have loved to skin that man alive. And then maybe roast him slowly over an open fire...
It wasn’t long until my feet began to ache and I had numerous paper cuts on my fingers from hastily leafing through files. When I got bloodstains on one of them, he accused me of wilfully damaging company material and ordered me to stop bleeding.


