Sarah Schuster

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“If I’m the chicken, does that mean Rhett’s going to pluck all my feathers and eat me?” I asked once the laughter calmed. “For sure. He’s going to get you naked and gobble you straight down,” Brighton said with a wag of his eyebrow. I didn’t have any feathers, but to a bird shifter
The Firedancer (Black Cat Circus #2)
by Rye Cox
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