Price becomes a household member, surreptitiously to Polly, but welcomed and expected by her parents. He tries to understand what is expected of him, but does not have a human mindset.
I have no idea why I write. I know that I like to and wish I had done it all my life. I've thought of various reasons why I started which come and go. The only one which keeps coming back, is that my beginnings coincided with when my dog, Daisy, started to slow down. I am an embarassing 65 years of age now, and I enjoy writing more than anything else, other than being with Daisy. If I could venture a purpose, which isn't easy, it would be that I like to keep doing different things. I hope readers do not want to hear the same story over and over again. They all are derivative and boring.
I intend to try to tell the sagas of various people at the most interesting time of their lives. I think that to do follow ups with the same characters is more lucrative, but would result in lesser stories for the readers and would be tedious for me. We are all entitled to have some fun. Despite the logic conveyed by those most beneficial of the sadness, aren't we entitled to live and love? The answer seems so obvious.