Richard Derus

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She kissed him too lightly, so that it was only a cold brush of damp and the chalk smell of her powder. He flinched and pushed his hand over his mouth before he could stop himself. ‘Sorry – I’m getting a cold. I don’t want to give you—
Richard Derus
Now it is plain
The Watchmaker of Filigree Street (Watchmaker of Filigree Street, #1)
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