Danielle

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Livy woke up swinging, her fist ramming into Vic’s palm, which he was quick enough to raise so that she didn’t hit his face. “Good morning.” Livy cleared her throat. “Sorry about that. I dreamed I was fighting rampaging squirrels . . . and Blayne.” “Were you winning?” “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Bite Me (Pride, #9)
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