go. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. CHAPTER I. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. These things were common knowledge among the bon ton, who were generously welcoming these unfortunate escapees. ” “John, maybe I don’t want to try out for orchestra right now because my heart isn’t in it. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. \"Hey, I'm Michelle. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.
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