Vicky Dreiling

“Something started thumping rhythmically against the door. Julianne hiccoughed and stared in horror, fearing whoever was in there would fling it open.A man grunted again and again.Georgette frowned. "Is he ill?"The door thumped harder. A woman started making repetitive high-pitched noises, sounding like a squealing pig.Julianne frowned. "What are they—hic—doing?""We must leave," Anne whispered.The thumping turned into banging, and the man's grunting grew louder. "Feel my mighty sword.""He has a sword?" Georgette asked.The woman behind the door screamed.Georgette gasped. "He killed her.""I'm coming," the man said."Not inside me," the woman said in a curt voice. "I don't want a brat."Julianne dropped the candle and clapped her hand over her mouth. She'd thought a bed was required. As she stared at the door, she tried to figure out how the amorous couple had managed, but she failed.”

“You are my one and only, for all eternity.”

“He'd missed matching wits with her. "Shall we duel with our lips?" "You may find yourself eating grass for breakfast.”