By Sylvia Day
While assurance investigator Anastasia Miller units out to retrieve the rose-hued red diamonds stolen in a up to date heist, she unearths herself operating along former flame, deputy U.S. Marshal Jake Monroe—the guy she enjoyed adequate to depart at the back of.
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Extra info for Blood and Roses
And I intended to savor every tiny, minuscule moment of it. Across the room, I could see Lynn scowling at me, annoyed I had ignored her primly conservative costume advice and turned up in my own creation. I just smiled good-naturedly and gave her a little wave, mentally altering her entire pirate wench outfit to be at least six inches shorter and possibly two sizes tighter. Bless her. She didn’t really think I was going to miss an opportunity like this, did she? The sheer beauty of costume parties is that they make it utterly acceptable, if not mandatory, to dress like a complete slut, and though sluttery is usually what I pride my girls on, not myself, I felt it rude not to get in the spirit of things.
There is no center. My body shook, convulsed. I lay on the bed. The pain started, like a crazy burn-itch all through me, like a muscle you want to stretch, like a cramp you can’t relieve, pain growing and unremitting. I was consumed and I panted in it. 35 woman-time Then compression. Small, small, small. Quivering, twitching. Settling. Now relief. No more pain. No more words. Hunger. Heartbeat. Fast. Run run run. Skitter. Forever. Food. Small opening. Squeeze. Run run run. Fast. Fear, frozen. Big eyes big heat near me.
Everyone knows this, right? My code is fucked. My code is magic. I don’t stay myself. There is no center. My body shook, convulsed. I lay on the bed. The pain started, like a crazy burn-itch all through me, like a muscle you want to stretch, like a cramp you can’t relieve, pain growing and unremitting. I was consumed and I panted in it. 35 woman-time Then compression. Small, small, small. Quivering, twitching. Settling. Now relief. No more pain. No more words. Hunger. Heartbeat. Fast. Run run run.