It all began in February, 1997, in Brooklyn, New York.
Much like the characters in our book, our relationship started with a letter. Well, not exactly a letter—an ad in the New York Times Real Estate section:
Two bedroom apartment for sale, Park Slope.
“This is too good to be true!” Andrea and her partner cried as they entered the lobby of the funky, charming, nineteenth-century building.
They climbed three flights, and rang the bell.
A leggy blond opened the door. Well, not exactly a leggy blond—it was Nancy. She does have legs. She once was blond.
The walls of her apartment were purple, the better to match her sink, tub, and shoes.
After bonding immediately over a conversation about writing, it was only a matter of hours before the apartment was sold on a handshake. (more…)