Sara laughed. "What is it now?"
"Magnolias. Fucking magnolias. I have to be all poetic about them."
Sara peered over Toni's shoulder. "Redolent?" she snickered.
"Y'know what I want to write? 'The air stank of magnolia, like the distinctive aroma of rotting corpses'."
"I fucking hate magnolias."
"You're writing a Harlequin novel. You must pretend to be in love with magnolias. And with Fabio."
Toni groaned. "I need a new gig."
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