I am re-reading Christina Dodd's Scent of Darkness (she has great love scenes!). Here are the last two I read:
The Szarvases were artists of some note - Sharon painted amazing landscapes; River and their daughter, Meadow, fashioned beautiful, magnificent workds in glass - and every night the floors of their rambling old house and their barn studio were full of sleeping bags and cots as other artists, young and old, came to learn and to serve as apprentices at the feet of their masters. The master artists used all their money to pay for food, blankets, heat and teachers for their students.
And the last two I wrote are:
The slam of a car door echoed in the quiet tree lined darkness. When the engine roared to life, Mariska spun and flipped off the driver. The window whirred down quickly, “You bitch! You really are a piece of work.”
Well, that's one way to look at it; here's the other
17 hours ago