M.A. Mashburn

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A violent memory slammed into Grimm and he reached up to touch his temple. A beautiful woman all dressed in black. The begging last words of a good man. The remorse of a killer. A slice. Blood hitting wood and leather. And a soul slamming into him. “I—I think I was there…”
M.A. Mashburn
And that kids that's what we call soulmates
Autumn of the Grimoire (Sisters Solstice, #1)
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