Stolen Fire: Chapter 4
“She’s not speaking any dialect my chip can translate. Unless she just called us pig-fuckers, which I suppose is possible.”
Continue reading →“She’s not speaking any dialect my chip can translate. Unless she just called us pig-fuckers, which I suppose is possible.”
Continue reading →Her head pounded like seventeen elephants were tap-dancing on her forehead, and her mouth was fuzzier than a rabbit’s asshole.
Continue reading →The sound of his name cut through Oris’ concentration, and he looked up at his partner, Yasho. By the look on her face and the tone of her voice, she’d been trying to get his attention for a while.
Continue reading →Ingrid, much to the disgust of the tiny voice in her head she spent so much time ignoring, turned to Heather and smiled. “What can I do for you?”
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