I watched as she unstrapped herself and clambered on the bed, sitting, her knees up, legs apart and with her back to the headboard. “My turn. Tong...e only.”Well, what’s a girl supposed to do, argue?~~~Dr Ruth Beckett wasn’t by any means the stereotypical archivist. She was about my age, tall, long-haired and quite striking if not beautiful. She was wearing jeans and a white cotton blouse with flat shoes and was still three or four inches taller than I. We had coffee which was surprisingly. "I've heard all about Mindy's difficulties and frustrations," the wizard said. "I can't say that I blame her, either. How much frustration is a mortal supposed to endure voluntarily?" I hung my head at that. "I know," I said. "I sure didn't help matters, either. If only . . . ." "No more," the wizard interrupted. "You cannot blame yourself for the things that happened. At least, not entirely. You know the things that you did, good and bad, and I don't need to rehash them for you. . More

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