You thought I didn’t notice the way you two looked at each other? I may be old but I’m not blind. I remember that
feeling. The spark, the electricity... ”
I had to interject before I got the unabridged version of Anjali Does Mumbai.

Late twenties, single, female. Do the math.
Flirty flings were fabulous until you hit the big three-O, all downhill
from there. Biological clocks started ticking like time bombs waiting to
detonate, gravity exerted more force on your life than your mom, and
suddenly, the dog-ugliest creep looked like Jake Gyllenhaal.

All pomp and show.” Anjali’s glare at the house would’ve exploded bricks if she’d had superhuman powers. “A fat cow needs a big barn.

She was an idiot. An adorable, gorgeous, feisty, funny, sweet, sexy idiot.

You’re gorgeous. You’re sexy. You’re … asking me to cut that dress off you? I’m praying for strength.

Eat your heart out. Oh, wait. You can’t. It’s not organic.