Taylor Milligan-Csemez

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Whatever snarky comment Mini would have made, they would never find out. Mini’s eyes drooped fully closed. His lips parted just a little, and he was still. Trinket was enchanted. “You put him to sleep,” he marveled under his breath. “How did you do that?” “He was tired,” said Zee. “Couldn’t you tell? Get him that blanket.”
The Final Stroke (A Fresh Taste of Ink #6-7)
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