Finally, a bit of luck. Rat bastard,' I hissed down at Montmartre. 'Mangy dog of a scurvy goat.''That doesn’t even make sense,' Isabeau murmured.'Feels good though. Try it.'She narrowed her eyes at the top of Montmartre’s perfectly groomed hair. 'Balding donkey’s ass.''Nice.''Sniveling flea-bitten rabid monkey droppings.''Clearly, you’re a natural.

-Alyxandra Harvey

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