Jane Heller

I am The Brunette Who Keeps Her Head.

There’s nothing to fear but fear itself,” I chortled. “See you at seven.”

m embarrassed to tell you that after I tore open the plastic and removed the coat from the hanger, I tried it on. (Please don’t judge me harshly. You would have done the same thing, be honest.)

on time, I thought with a rush of pleasure. He must be looking forward to seeing me. Hubba hubba.

I smiled. “I’m real, I promise.” It’s only my identity that’s fake.

Perhaps the miss from Mississippi was packin’ a pistol along with her hostility and ended up shootin’ and killin’ her very own ma! (Perhaps I was getting a little carried away.)

feel terrible about it,” he said, with as much remorse as if he were the one who had mugged me.

then Bill Harris, the love of my life, was not only a liar; he was a thief.

“It’s true. You’ve put me in touch with my inner slut.”

plenty of days when you’d rather be anyone but yourself.”
I smiled sweetly, linked my arm through Bill’s, and left the building with my man by my side.