When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

I think that’s a plop of spangle poop.

You can reshape a turd an infinite number of times, but it’s still a turd. It still stinks.

‘You’re just the bitch who clamped a shackle around my wrist and called it mercy.’

‘I’m not one to share,’

He smelled good. I fucked up.

Valid concern, honestly.

Shit – fuck – dragon balls!

same

‘Hi.’ Bye.

‘Please don’t scare me like that again.’

Perhaps I’ll fly, too.

– in desperate need of a bath and maybe a wall to bash my head against.

‘You don’t have to beg for me, Moonbeam.’

He’s fire and brimstone. I’m shattered ice. Our collision is steam and destruction, destined to dissipate, but I’ll gladly burn beneath him until the world comes crumbling down.

No, I don’t think I am okay.

‘Hard to turn down an opportunity to gift you the severed head of a male who made you bleed.’

‘Raeve, you could flay me down the middle and I’d still fucking love you.’

I’d spend eternity looking up at her if she’d only fucking let me.

‘No, you don’t, Moonbeam. You love me. You’re just too busy feasting on my heart to notice.’

Nothing better than a hot meal and a good show to get me in the mood for eating pussy and spilling blood.