“Are you all right?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Not really, but it had to be done. You?”
“I have no idea. I don’t feel much, except when I do.”
“I’m sorry I contributed to that this morning.” She stuck out a hand. “Pax?”
He eyed the hand and crossed his arms. “Opportunist.”
She lowered her hand, but kept it extended, palm up.
“Pax,” he said.
First, the surprise: on Wednesday last, the 8th of February, I received an email from Kirkus Reviews containing the...
With all the busyness around Rembrandt's Station, I see I haven't posted a snippet in a few weeks. This is from a work...
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