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. How perfectly charming. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road.
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