Cassandra Clare

“Damnit.' Isabelle, standing in the mouth of the alley, her wet black hair like a cloak around her shoulders, kicked a trash can out of her way and glowered. 'Oh, for goodness's sake,' she said. 'I can't believe you two. Why? What's wrong with bedrooms? And pivacy?”


Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels
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City of Fallen Angels (The Mortal Instruments, #4) City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare
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