Confessions of a Real-Life Motorcycle Chick
an excerpt

Cassie narrowed her eyes at Trajan. "Are you making fun of me?"
"No, no," he said quickly. "I mean it. You're what, six years younger than I am? And you're realizing things now that I'm just realizing at the age of thirty. You're brilliant, actually."
She smiled again, looking down at her newly-delivered food at obviously feeling a little embarrassed.
"Looks good, huh?" he asked, reaching for the silverware by his plate.
"Mm." She paused while opening the wrapper for her wooden chopsticks. "Um. You aren't planning on eating sushi with a fork, are you?" She looked personally offended.
"I never got the hang of chopsticks," he explained, now hesitating over his food.
"Oh, dear. Here I was beginning to think you were cultured," she sighed. "Alright, look. Get your chopsticks, I'll show you."
She demonstrated placing the first chopstick, then the second, and the delicate tweezing motion as she picked up a piece of sushi without much effort.
"Are you sure that's how it's supposed to go? It seems easier than what I was taught before," he said, mimicking the motion and finding it surprisingly easy.
"Well, I don't know if that's traditionally correct, but to the untrained eye, it looks right, and it works. Better than trying to cut up your godzilla roll with a knife and fork, anyways."
"That's true," he replied, grappling with a piece of sushi and finally managing to make it into his mouth.
Cassie took a bite as well, managing it a little more gracefully than he had. She closed her eyes as she savored the flavors, sighing happily. He watched her, amused.
"Like it?"
"I love sushi," she answered. "It's probably my second favorite food."
"Oh? What's your first favorite?"
"Linguine with clam sauce," she said without hesitation.
"Never had it before."