<p> <blockquote> Even in a tiny apartment, there were enough rooms for Frannie to get into trouble... </p> <p> First, there was the bedroom...where it all began in such a casually romantic way. </p> <p> Next, the bathroom...where things took a suspicious turn. </p> <p> Finally, the living room...where she picked up the phone and prepared to break the news to the boyfriend she barely knew... </p> </blockquote> <p> When Frannie Mackenzie got sick all over the sweater section of a major urban retailer, she couldn't quite believe that this was a reaction to gray being this year's black. So she went back to her postage-stamp-sized apartment and took inventory. Jeans tighter? Yes. Boobs bigger? Yes. And the absolute proof-positive...the stick had turned blue. </p> <p> Frannie decides to give up cocktails, late nights, and anything else fun that the big city has to offer. But one thing -- or rather person -- she's not sure she's going to get to keep is the surprised father in the situation -- an experimental jazz musician with the improbable name of Calvin, who'd taken off to Europe before Frannie figured out parenthood had awkwardly united them. Falling in love was the last thing that Frannie expected, and the happiest surprise of all. </p>