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Barons of Sorrow (Royals of Forsyth University, #11) Barons of Sorrow by Angel Lawson
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“DK, what exactly are you doing?” Graves calls after me. “Trying to make sure he doesn’t make a stupid fucking mistake.” Graves laughs–short and dry. “Good luck, but maybe phrase it a little more respectfully.” “Don’t fucking count on it.”
― Angel Lawson, Barons of Sorrow
“Delores, chill,” Rathbone drawls, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Nothing shady’s going on other than whatever the fuck you tried to serve for dinner last night.” She flips him off without looking.”
― Angel Lawson, Barons of Sorrow
“Many things have changed over the years in Forsyth, but the mouth on Delores Crane isn’t one of them.” “That woman is a crusty bitch, but she’s our crusty bitch.” Killian smiles”
― Angel Lawson, Barons of Sorrow
“I approach the bar, slide a hundred-dollar bill across the scarred wood. “Give the boys a round of drinks. Maybe one for yourself.” She snatches the cash and shoves it into her ample bosom without ceremony. “Get your own goddamn drinks,” she barks, eyeing the room. “Secret meetings between Royals sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me.”
― Angel Lawson, Barons of Sorrow
“Well, ain’t this a sight,” she snorts, “every cocksucker with a crown and every bottom-feeder in South Side crammed in here like roaches.” “Mrs. Crane,” I say, voice even. “You’re looking well.” “And you’re looking like a rat turd on the bottom of my shoe.”
― Angel Lawson, Barons of Sorrow