For most,it would be as simple as finding the right paper and embellishments tomake their scrapbook uniquely theirs; for a few, it would take someextr... magic. Diane was looking forward to providing that magic.She had only been open a few minutes?her coffee maker had just finishedits daily work and she hadn't had a chance to pour a cup--when her firstcustomer walked through the front door. Sheila Stone looked to be aboutDiane's age. She was well-dressed, in a white winter coat with largeblack. "No way!" I said, crossing my arms.She giggled. "You look just like a girl..." I'm not going!" I said again, "Not like this!" Come on!" she giggled, "You look really cute..."I started to walk back to the car, but that's when I realized that inthis form, I wasn't even legally able to drive. I frowned and walked backto her. "Change me back!" Come on," she said again, "Just an hour, then we'll leave, please?"I sighed. "All right." Great!" she laughed, "But we need a name for. More

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