<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Jeff Sinclair on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/jeff-sinclair/</link><description>Recent content in Jeff Sinclair on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><atom:link href="/authors/jeff-sinclair/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Perfect Lover</title><link>/stories/1/01/01/the-perfect-lover/</link><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/1/01/01/the-perfect-lover/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Angie MacDougal glanced at the clock and sighed. Almost 4:30 on the
second Friday of the month &amp;hellip;. she&amp;rsquo;d better start getting ready. She headed
for the bathroom, unbuttoning her blouse as she went. She shucked it off
and dropped it, kicking it moodily out of the way, and looked into the
mirror, naked to the waist but for her bra. She put her hands on her flaring
hips, frowning as she inspected her image critically. She knew she was
good looking, but she thought her mouth was too wide for perfection and
she would have signed a five - year lein on her soul for blond hair instead
of the rich brown silk that framed her face. Joe &amp;ldquo;said&amp;rdquo; he liked her hair,
but the models in his magazines were all blondes.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>