Teaser Thursday ~ Catwoman Soulstealer
I had Random.org select a page for me, and it picked… page 148.
Harley glanced between Ivy and Selina, the former still grimacing at Shrike’s body. “To do what?”
Selina ticked the items off on a gloved hand. “Robbery, mayhem, notoriety… What else could a girl want?”
Harley tossed the black-tipped braid over her shoulder. “Ivy said you could get the Joker out of Arkham.”
Review for Agent en Boef en de fopmoppen
Zo nu ben ik door mijn stapeltje van de bibliotheek geleende Agent en Boef boeken heen.
Top 10 Books of July 2016
Review for Dangerous Lies
Even though there were still a few things that I didn’t entirely like (like Trigger, though now with the ending, he did make a perfect villain so I got to give points for that), and I still had one question (where is Reed??), but in overall I just can’t give this book less than 5+ stars. I have been having troubles with reading stuff lately, and this one just grabbed me and held me. I couldn’t stop reading (even if at times I really had to).
Review for Agent en Boef en het boefvangfeest
Haha, weer een briljant boek over Agent en Boef, ook al moet ik zeggen dat ik nog steeds heel verward ben over de relatie van die twee.
Friday’s Page 69 ~ Dangerous Lies
“The nice thing about sitting smack-dab on the street corner is that we’ve got the parking spaces all down the left side of the building. Customers pull in and they don’t have to leave their car to get food. We serve anywhere from twenty to fifty cars a night.” She smiled shyly.
“They don’t take up tables in the dining area and there’s no cleanup. Best of both worlds. Can you start tonight, Stella?”
Review for Agent en Boef en de gladde grapjes
Mijn eerste Agent en Boef boek en ik moet zeggen dat ik hem echt superleuk vond, ook al vond ik het wel erg verwarrend hoe de relatie was tussen de agent en de boef.
First Chapter First Paragraph Tuesday Intros ~ Hellhole
His boss had burst out of the back room moments earlier. “Forest-green Honda Civic license BNR one seven five!” she yelled in heavy Greek accent as she waddled out the door of the small convenience store, chest heaving and dyed-red bouffant hairdo bouncing. Stavroula Papadopoulos was neither young nor physically fit, but she hadn’t let a gas-and-dasher go without a fight for well on thirty years, and she wasn’t about to start.