To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. He lost control of the machine. He became a little more personal and intimate. " "I shouldn't call her queer. But I am not indisposed to gratify you. You may enjoy your pride, your arrogance—in a coffin.
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