Authors: Kristen Callihan
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy
D
on
’
t
co
me
ho
me
em
pty
-
h
a
nd
e
d
.
Ce
rt
a
inly
not
,
Fa
th
e
r
.
He
r
f
a
c
e
burn
e
d
,
a
nd
y
e
t
sh
e
k
e
pt
h
e
r
w
a
lk
st
ea
dy
as
sh
e
turn
e
d
onto
a
busi
e
r
a
v
e
nu
e.
He
r
e,
p
e
opl
e
wa
lk
e
d
at
a
rush
e
d
p
a
c
e
:
cl
e
rks
on
th
e
ir
wa
y
ho
me,
shopp
e
rs s
ea
rching
for
b
a
rg
a
ins
,
a
nd
p
e
ddl
e
rs
w
a
nting
to
ma
k
e
a
shilling
.
A
group
of
urch
i
ns
ma
d
e
a
g
ame
of
tossing
rubbish
at
th
e
bo
a
rd
ma
n
on
th
e
corn
e
r
,
t
a
king
a
dv
a
nt
a
g
e
of
th
e
f
a
ct
th
a
t
h
e
couldn’t
fight
b
a
ck
b
e
c
a
us
e
of
th
e
h
ea
vy
a
dv
e
rtising
bo
a
rds
h
e
wor
e
ov
e
r
his
should
e
rs
.
S
pl
a
tt
e
rs
of
so
me
thing
d
a
rk
a
nd
foul
dott
e
d
th
e
b
a
ck
bo
a
rd
,
turn
i
ng
,
“
He
nry
K
iss
me
g
a
st’s
Em
poriu
m
for
th
e
D
istinguish
e
d
Ge
ntl
eme
n
”
into
,
“
He—
y
Kiss
me–a
s
–
s
——D
istinguish
e
d
Ge
nt
l
eme
n
.
”
M
ir
a
nd
a
’s
lips
twitch
e
d;
th
e
littl
e
d
e
vils
h
a
d
quit
e
th
e
a
i
m.
She
t
ook
t
he
oppo
rt
un
it
y
t
o
lift
a
f
ew
pocke
t
s
fr
om
t
he
men
who
s
l
owed
t
o
l
augh
at
t
he
s
i
gh
t
.
La
t
e
r
,
she
’
d
come
back
and
g
i
ve
t
he
poor
boa
r
dman
a
bob
as
a
b
it
of
a
r
ewa
r
d
f
o
r
hav
i
ng
t
o
endu
r
e
such
da
il
y
t
o
rt
u
r
e.
Despite
th
e w
a
r
m
th
in
th
e
a
ir
,
sh
e
f
e
lt
cold
as
sh
e
l
e
ft
th
e
sc
e
n
e.
P
rickl
e
s
of
un
ea
s
e
d
a
nc
e
d
a
long
h
e
r
spin
e.
M
ir
a
nd
a
st
ee
l
e
d
h
e
rs
e
lf not
to
turn
a
round
.
I
nst
ea
d
,
sh
e
wov
e
deeper
into
th
e
cro
w
d
,
h
e
r
p
a
c
e
incr
ea
sing
p
a
st
d
e
coru
m.
But
sh
e
could
not
sh
a
k
e
th
e
f
ee
ling
of
b
e
ing
w
a
tch
e
d
,
follow
e
d
.
A
quick
peek
confir
me
d
th
e
sudd
e
n
sid
e
st
e
p
of
a
ma
n
,
his
for
m
no
m
or
e
th
a
n
on
e
silhou
e
tt
e
am
ongst
ma
ny
on
th
e
cro
w
d
e
d sid
ewa
lk
.
S
h
e
turn
e
d
a
w
a
y
.
Swea
t
trickl
e
d
do
w
n
h
e
r
n
e
ck
to
cr
ee
p
und
e
r
h
e
r
coll
a
r
.
W
ho
wa
s
it?
I
nst
i
nct
told
h
e
r
it
wa
s
a
str
a
ng
e
r
,
so
me
on
e
who
mea
nt
h
e
r
h
a
r
m.
S
h
e
’d
been
living
this
uns
a
vory
lif
e
long
e
nough
to
a
cquir
e
a
h
ea
rty
r
e
sp
e
ct
for
h
e
r
instincts
.
Faces
b
e
c
ame
a
b
l
ur
,
th
e
c
a
cophony
of
London
n
ea
r
d
ea
f
e
ning
wh
e
n
paired
w
ith
th
e
b
ea
ting
of
h
e
r
h
ea
rt
.
He
wa
s
h
e
rding
h
e
r
,
m
oving
e
v
e
r
clos
e
r
.
S
h
e
ought
to
s
ee
k
sh
e
l
t
e
r
,
p
e
rh
a
ps
in
a
shop
,
but
th
a
t
wouldn’t
stop
hi
m.
O
f
th
a
t
sh
e
wa
s
sur
e.
H
o
me
wa
s
too
f
a
r
a
w
a
y
.
S
h
e
’d
h
a
v
e
to
fight
.
A
h
ea
rtb
ea
t
thu
m
p
e
d
at
h
e
r
n
e
ck
as
sh
e
fought
b
a
ck
p
a
nic
.