Seizing one of the brown paper bags in her telekinetic grip, Lily stepped right into the center of the commissary's little hall of wonders. "It's easy, Sparks. Everything's all sorted out for you, look." She pointed a forehoof the bookshelves flanking the door. "Those are the 'novelettes,' ya know? Harness-rippers. Stories about sweet, innocent mares discovered as buds by charming colts who then teach them how to blossom. No pictures -- at least, nothing more than the cover art and maybe an illustrated plate or two inside -- but steamy stories to warm you up on a cold night. More popular with the mares than with the colts. I guess us gals really need a good narrative to get the juices flowing."