“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?” he says, laughing. Oh crap. Did I say that out loud? No. No way. I’m not that stupid. “What is?” I squeak. He sits up straight, rolling back his shoulders and clearing his throat. “Lord Dashiell August Richmond Belleview Lovett the Fourth. When you’re born with a name like that, all people do is tell you that you are better than everyone else. When that kind of narcissism is drilled into you from such an early age, there’s only one thing you can become, pretty little Carrie Mendoza.” I’m a human torch. Living, breathing, aching flame. Pretty little
...more
