"He's wearing formal attire for a wedding," I explain while attempting to squeeze the water out of the naked doll our four-year-old daughter had recently treated to a bath. "Genevieve, I'm not sure this is working," I fret as I hear water still sloshing within the doll's shiny molded body.

"Keep trying, Mummy," she pleads, regarding her plastic baby with concern.

"But usually the heroes on your covers wear less," my husband points out, still bewildered. "Isn't that what your readers' want?"

"Some readers do and some don't." I shake the doll vigorously over the sink. "In that scene Jack Kent is a guest at Amelia Belford's wedding. It would seem a little strange if she was in her wedding gown and he was naked."

"Is Lucy better now, Mummy?" Genevieve asks hopefully.

"Not yet." I try swinging the doll up and down like a hammer. Droplets sprinkle out of her joints, but I can still hear a profusion of water swishing inside her.

"Genevieve," I begin, hesitant, "I think I'm going to have to take one of Lucy's legs off. That's the only way I can get the water out," I hastily explain as she looks at me in horror. "Then I'll put the leg back on again and Lucy will be as good as new."

"Does he abduct her from her wedding?" asks my husband, curious.

"Will it hurt, Mummy?" My daughter is near tears.

"No," I answer to both. "Amelia is an heiress who runs away from the duke she is supposed to marry with Jack's reluctant help, and Lucy will be absolutely fine once I get her leg back on." I pull on the chubby limb, and find it is much more difficult to remove than I had anticipated. "There," I say triumphantly when it is finally free. I shake both Lucy and her severed leg over the sink some more. I can still hear water sloshing.

"Why doesn't she want to marry the duke?" wonders my husband.

"Because she doesn't love him, and he believes she is terribly common." I give Lucy another shake, trying to determine where the water is hiding. A grim realization begins to take hold. "Genevieve," I say tentatively, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take her head off. But I'll do it very gently," I hastily assure her, "and then I'll put it right back on and Lucy will be fine."

My daughter bites her lip. "Okay."

Grasping Lucy's blonde head in one hand and her torso in the other, I begin to pull.

"And then does she marry Jack?" asks my husband.

"In the end she does." I'm yanking harder now. "But first Amelia has to learn she can survive without her family's wealth, and Jack needs to put his past behind him and realize Amelia doesn't care about his sordid beginnings. Come on, Lucy," I plead, gritting my teeth, "let's get you fixed and then you can go back to playing with Genevieve."

"Try twisting it as you pull," my husband suggests.

Lucy's head suddenly comes flying off and shoots across the room, whacking the wall like a tennis ball before it hits the floor. I look at my daughter in dismay.

She bursts into laughter.

"No, Carson." My husband scoops up our toddler son before he can get to poor Lucy's head and put it in his mouth.

"Da da," says Carson happily, delighted to be in daddy's arms. "Da da da da da…."

Genevieve picks up Lucy's head and shakes the water out of it before handing it back to me. "Here, Mummy."

Praying that I haven't broken her, I jam Lucy's head back onto her body. She blinks cheerfully at me. I squeeze her leg into its joint, and move it a few times. Thankfully, she seems to be fine. "Here you go, Genevieve." I'm immensely relieved as I hand my little girl her precious friend. "All better."

"That's great, Mummy." She tucks the doll under her arm and beams at me. "Now can you get the water out of Winnie-the-Pooh?"