Fire Breathing Cezar Dragons of the Bayou. To get the free app, enter mobile phone number. See all free Kindle reading apps. Don't have a Kindle? No customer reviews. Review this product Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a product review. Most helpful customer reviews on Amazon. Verified Purchase. Tears were flowing like a water fall. First out of sympathy for Veronica. Then just sheer anger at Hutch. Then sympathy for Hutch. Then happiness for the two of them. Ignoring the bond for over a year leads to stress and anger that nobody needs. I love a book that makes the reader FEEL.
I honestly felt a lot throughout this book. The story tugs at your every emotion as you get tangled up in these characters.
Just Wow! He rejected his mate for over a year not knowing the hurt he caused her.
Until after a new haircut and cloths did Veronica come out of her hidden shell to torment her shifter mate. Low and behold Hutch responses to the wild librarian, but the damage is to late for him. One person found this helpful.
So the way this story starts, it makes you want to choke Hutch. Really, it does. Veronica is the sweet librarian that's been in hiding. Not so much for herself but for Hutch. They are mates. But he's a jerk and makes her hide away. Well, Georgia will have none of that. Veronica is one kinky virgin. Hutch doesn't know what he's missing. This series is simply beautiful.
God, that was the San Diego series three weeks ago. That restaurant is famous for their tuna, and you said you like trying new foods. It wasn't even fish hidden in batter. It was flaky fish mixed with mushrooms and served up all disguised in a perfectly good hamburger bun you had me thinking contained a juicy burger. Lie to me all you want, don't lie to my taste buds. And not over something sacred like a burger, as in beef, the only meat that should be slapped between buns. Hutch switched the take-out bag to his left hand and held up his right, intoning, "I do hereby solemnly swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
There is half a cow in this bag and not a mushroom in sight. Hutch ducked back through the open sliding door into their room and returned with two lidded Styrofoam cups of soda. Starsky pulled over the other balcony chair for him. Starsky delved into the bag, managing to divvy the eats without creating a mess that would have housekeeping services burning them in effigy. Didn't know we needed a milestone event.
All legit and above board. The guy who thought of putting chipped fish on a bun and calling it a burger probably also sold great American recipes to Castro. Hutch coughed mid-bite and had to reach frantically for his soda. Just before Starsky was about to leave his seat and perform the Heimlich, Hutch cleared his throat, shaking his head and waving away assistance. It won't be easy broadening your horizons, will it?
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- Beyond Second Chances.
Aren't we put on this planet to accumulate experiences that teach us how we're all interconnected? You know, this reminds me. I was reading a fascinating article in National Geographic the other day about this village all the way in Azerbaijan. Hutch rattled on about ancient people in some out of the way village, and Starsky peered at him, torn between warring desires.
On the one hand, ever since Hutch had gotten over his hard ass routine and started talking to him, Starsky loved to listen to him talk about everything from apples to zebras, and the philosophical chatter had Starsky shifting in his seat to alleviate the side effects of denim-to-dick contact. On the other hand, he had to protect Hutch from himself. If the other guys heard Hutch talking that stuff, they might think he was loose a few screws in some vital location. Peter Whitelaw was known to read some real ivory tower books, but he didn't go around dispensing the information like candy from a Pez toy.
See a Problem?
Hutch doesn't either, come to think of it, except around me. Trying to impress me, pal? Starsky felt he should issue a gentle warning anyway, just in case. Hutch exaggerated a flinch. If we're down to hurling insults like that, I've seen some of the reading material you pull out of your duffle. How many ballplayers pack Ginsberg and Kerouac for road trips?
Starsky didn't blush often, but when he did he felt it all the way to his toes. He countered by giving Hutch his sultriest, I'm-the-man-mommas-warn-their-daughters-about, come-and-get-it grin. Seems to work especially well with blondes.
Crab Sandwiches, Book Two, Pt3, by Dawnwind
Step two, he'll think about you having sex. Step three, if the bisexual gods know their shit, he'll be changing the gender of that blonde in his mind. Off seducing some poor, unsuspecting female with Beat Generation poetry? Wouldn't you like to know? Hutch settled back in his chair and waved his napkin in a fanning motion under his chin. He gave up and swallowed first. I'm still waiting for you to write Zen and the Art of Slider Maintenance.
Hutch was making that soft, gurgling, suspiciously-like-laughter noise again. Damn, conversation with you is like a Byzantine maze. How did we get all the way here from tuna burgers? It's all about the journey. Ready to tell me what has you buying me food I actually like? When you were quiet the whole flight in today, I figured something was off. Let's face it: silence isn't your favorite pastime. When you didn't want to go out with the guys to one of the most famous burger joints in St.
Louis, I decided to bribe you with cheddar-smothered beef to tell me what's got you worked up. Starsky was busily munching the cheddar-smothered beef. He swallowed hard, dabbed at his mouth with the corner of the sandwich wrapper, and gulped down soda. He killed me in Spring Training. I went down swinging like a first year Little Leaguer. Why the White Sox traded him to the Cards is a mystery to me. Damn American League teams oughta keep their pitchers to themselves. Starsky mulled offering Hutch the chance to flog him with a French fry.
Jesus, you gotta know!
You know I want you bad enough to jump off this hotel balcony and sprout wings for you if that would get you between the sheets of my bed in there. A lump born of fear, nerves, or anticipation? Starsky couldn't tell. He accepted the statement at face value to mean that Hutch knew he would've been welcomed if he had come over from the Siberian Coal Miners League.
Starsky dropped his handful of chili fries back in the red-and-white-checked paperboard basket. Hutch, the problem is that murderous knuckleball he's got. It's not even a regular knuckleball, which'd be bad enough. It's got some secret trick to it, and Cole's managed to keep the secret since he hit the bigs.
Guards it better than an armored truck.