L.M. Mountford

Sweeter Than Hate

Sweeter Than Hate

I shouldn’t have heard the things I did. Shouldn’t have attracted his attention.

Now I feel his stare like a touch. Viscerally. Acutely.

The Russian assassin has me in his sights, and there’s only one way out.

His bed.

Good thing I’m drawn to danger.

Sweeter Than Hate continues in

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