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381 pages, Paperback
First published March 20, 2018
*sigh*
*another sigh*
One day, Sara tries to kill Pestilence—for obvious reasons. But much to her (and the rest of human race) dismay, the guy is immortal (duh!). After recovering from Sara’s poor attempt at murder, Pestilence takes her as his prisoner. And so from there, what I’d call transcendental love (with Stockholm Syndrome-esque tendency) transpires.
Again, I don’t know whether him saving me is a kindness or a curse . It’s obviously a curse, you dumb bimbo. He ain’t saving you to romance your ass.
Friend: I really want to read a story about a hot guy, but not just any hot guy you know?
Me: Well, I’m really loving the broken tortured thing right now.
Friend: Oh, yeah I get that. And what if he has a horse.
Me: Sure, but hey I don’t like it when animals die in books so the horse needs to be undying.
Friend: Agreed. You know who rides horses. Knights and Soldiers and Dukes, Dukes always ride horses
Me: Man not another story about a Duke and I’ve never seen a Knight or Soldier with an undying horse
Friend: True. The only undying horse I know of is the one the headless horseman rides and I’m pretty sure kissing is going to be a problem if he is the main character.
Me: Oh…the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride undying horses. It could be one of them. Maybe War, he sounds kind of hot
Friend: Egh. War has so been done. I think Aries has ruined war for everyone. What about Pestilence though? He carries around disease everywhere he goes. He’d make a great love interest
“I cannot decide if you are a toxin or a tonic,” he says, lifting a hand to my cheek . “Only that you plague my thoughts and fill my veins.”
Pestilence really could work on his compliments.
I could give birth to a deity - thingy.
A godspawn.
Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Noooooooooope.
This conversation is quickly going from uncomfortable waters to my-vagina-is-mutinying-it-doesn’t-matter-that-you’re-sex-on-legs-well-okay-maybe-it-does-a-little-nevermind-my-vagina-is-cool-with-it.
That’s what happens when you’re upsettingly pretty. My libido gets stupid—correction, stupider (because let’s face it, on a normal day my libido is still a bimbo)
“I cannot decide if you are a toxin or a tonic,” he says, lifting a hand to my cheek. “Only that you plague my thoughts and fill my veins.” Pestilence really could work on his compliments.
“Sara,” he says, nearly breathless, “I feel … I feel I am losing myself to this sensation—to you.” His eyes search mine. “Is this … is this love?”- pls imagine a man loosing his damn mind because of a boner
“I find human clothes to be coarse, I like making fires, falling asleep is a troubling experience—but it is oddly enjoyable when you have someone to hold onto—” Color rises in my cheeks. “—and my favorite person is you.”- where is my 7ft + horseman who wants to spread the plague but my pussy so good it makes him rethink his life's purpose?
"He wants … he wants … to marry me? After last night? Shit on a motherfucking stick. I mean, I know I’m a decent lay, but I’m not that good."- a REAL man asks for your hand in marriage after making sweet sweet love to you to protect and honor your virtue... god i am begging you to send a man like this my way or i might have to jump in a bathtub with my toaster.