Louisa May Pemberley

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I looked the sheet over. “So, to succeed in my new job, I basically need to be an asexual, androgynous, human robot that’s dead to all physical and emotional sensation.” She sat back in her chair and nodded, like, Yep. Simple. I nodded. “Just be a machine,” she said. “A machine that eats fire.”
Things You Save in a Fire
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