KarenMac’s Reviews > To Kiss A Kringle > Status Update

Patricia had no idea of how to go about it.  Drop the sweater and make a move?  Strike up a sexy double innuendo conversation that would leave no doubt what she wanted?  Go the coy route?  The shy route?
“We should have sex.”  Oops, looks like she was going the bold route. Watching as Cullen suddenly choked on his whiskey in response.  Coughing.  Gasping.  Not quite the reaction she had been hoping for.

My Aunt Mildred taught me and all the cousins.  Said you never know when the foxtrot might save your life.”
“And has it ever?”
“Not the foxtrot, no.  But the samba, now that’s a different story.”

I’m pretty sure you can pull together a posh high tea worthy of a God.  Cut the crusts off a few sandwiches.  Order in some little pastries.  Dunk a few teabags in some hot water – and voila, high tea.”
“I think it will require a little more effort than that.”  Cullen smiled, amused, savouring a sip of wine.
“You’re right, don’t forget the doilies.  I understand they can make or break a party.”

Patricia was mentally railing at the Fates.  Stupid idiots.  This situation was ridiculous.  She was locked in here with the wrong man.  Just how was she going to survive twelve hours in Cullen’s company without killing him with a heavy tome or encyclopaedia?
She wondered if Great-Aunt Alma had a complaints box, because if so she was totally writing a letter as soon as she got out of here.

Unfortunately, the timing couldn’t have been worse, given her workload and the fact she had just fired off the first salvo in her battle with Cullen.  Yes, but that was Alma’s stock in trade matchmaking approach, wasn’t it?  She waited until her targets were distracted and then, wham.  A half naked, gorgeous warrior walks into their Library.

the first step in managing the babies would be for the mothers to accept how special their sons were.  Hiding magically appearing sharp burrs and having a baby with a knife fixation – probably things that should be discussed sooner, rather than later.

What was Aunt Mortent’s favourite saying again?  When one door closes, use dynamite and bring the whole fucking building down on the bastards’ heads.