“Oh,”
she said, and unzipped her jacket. Even though he looked angry, his eyes
followed the path of the zipper. “I’ve got your whiskey.” The bottle caught the
glow of candle flames as she withdrew it, trapped them in the glass.
“You’ve got my whiskey,” he said back, without
inflection.
“Are
you hungry? Let’s blow this hole and go grab pancakes.”
Your words provide really vivid images in my head whenever I read one of your books and that's what I love about your writing. Thank you for providing many hours of enjoyable reading.
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