Gabriel.
This has to be his fault, somehow. I'm going to track him down, pluck out his angel feathers, and stuff a pillow with them.
I walk up right behind Frannie, where she’s sitting near the door, in time to hear her say, “You know what, Tay? Go to Hell,” and I smile, because I think it’s cute that she’s inviting her friends along.
Lisa DesrochersMots clés personal-demons luc-cain
Sii la mia schiava d’amore,” I purr.
Her expression is guarded. “What did you say?”
An amused smile pulls at my lips. “I’ll never tell.” Somehow, I don’t think she’d agree to be my love slave anyway.
And I start to say that I’m not lying now, but I am, so that would be a lie.
Lisa DesrochersMots clés personal-demons luc-cain
There’s no crying in baseball and no love in Hell. It’s just the rules. You could say it’s against our religion, more or less.
Lisa DesrochersMots clés personal-demons luc-cain
What is it?”
“Well, how it works is you take the box out of my hand and open it,” I say with a grin.
Mots clés personal-demons luc-cain
But his eyes say what he can’t. I see it, clear as day, even if she doesn’t. He’d give up his wings for her. All she’d have to do is ask.
Lisa DesrochersPage 1 de 1.
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