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384 pages, Hardcover
First published February 5, 2019
... he thought of the gray button he kept in his pocket. "We all need our talismans, don't we?"
"Fuck you, limey prick."
"I'm Irish, by the way."
"He ain't receiving visitors today. Especially cunt cops."
"And here we three meet again, without the thunder, lightening, or the rain."
"These assholes I'm boxing tomorrow are beyond stupid. They're - what are those words you use? Eejits, gits. Fuckheads."
"All of those work," Roarke replied.
She drew him closer, rested her head on his shoulder. and realized he'd given her what she hadn't been able to find for herself. Peace of mind.