I don’t understand what the big deal is, Kate said with a sigh that was not one hundred percent professional. He’s just a guy writing trashy romance novels. What could he possibly know about love? Oh, honey, Sue said. It’s obvious you’ve never read any of his books. You’re right about that. I only read serious literature. Jane Eyre, Jane Austen, Janet Evanovich. Not me. Red filled her plate with crackers and cheese dip. The steamier the better.