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(Not recommended for persons under 17 years of age. Contains sex scenes and coarse language.)
When she swept in the room, half-drenched and shaking, Tristan looked up from the television and smiled as though he’d been expecting her. ‘Hey beautiful!’ The blue light from the television was reflecting off his fair hair. ‘How was your night?’
Ivyanne reached into her sagging apron, removed the two bound mud crabs she’d absconded with and placed them on the table top before her. She’d worked so hard to develop composure in the face of so much friction, but the rainy, perplexing day was the last straw. She was out of tolerance. ‘What did you say to my boss?!’
Tristan’s eyes widened as he regarded the live crustaceans on his perfectly clean table before gaping up at her. ‘Is this your version of bringing a man flowers? I already ate, but it works.’
Ivyanne scowled at him. ‘They’re females. I just rescued them from the tank. Figured you’re used to dealing with women with crabs so you could see that they get where they need to go.’
Tristan chuckled. ‘Ouch!’
The Given Garden is Book #1 in The Eden Chronicles, and is set six hundred years after Armageddon, where Utopia is the goal, but chaos is the result. Larkin had no choice to be an illegal third-born child, so does that mean that she should give her life to the crown in penance? And if so, can trust that she will find a friend in Prince Kohen Barachiel, and not a Nephilim master? The kingdom is in his family’s hands,her life in his, the clock is ticking until god’s return, and Satan is watching, waiting for her moment to strike back.
Sneak peek from Antivenin, The Vipers Nest #3 smile emoticon
I wasn’t going to let the fact that Saxon had a bigger penis than me bother me one little bit. I mean, not ‘little bit’ because I’m not ‘little’ but I’m not like… I mean, he has maybe half an inch on the slack on me but that’s… Okay, can I start again?
I have a very nice penis and it’s big by common standards. Saxon’s appeared to be marginally bigger but who knows? Maybe he’s crooked or something or maybe the acoustics in the boys’ locker room was throwing off my perspective or maybe the lukewarm water coming out of my shower head was a bit cooler than his… or maybe it was hearing the girls’ voices lift and shriek from the room beside us as they apparently re-enacted a scene from Cats after training, that had me shrivelling up just a little.
Girls fight over Saxon all the time, so he can probably handle the nails-on-a-chalkboard pitchy thing their voices do better than me and therefore, was untroubled by the cacophony while my manhood tried to hide behind my testicles.
Sigh- or maybe they fight over him all the time because he’s so bloody hung. Argh! When was this guy going to show a weakness that couldn’t be filed nicely under sexy labels like: ‘Complicated’ or ‘Romantic’ or ‘Intense.’ Why couldn’t he pick his nose or something? Why couldn’t he be an inch smaller ALL over?
And most importantly- why couldn’t I be the kind of person who wished that everybody was as un self-conscious and self-assured as Saxon bloody Clarke? I’m trying to be a better ‘bigger’ person than I am, honestly, but every guy has his limits and apparently, Saxon was mine.