PREVIEW
... reath, Lovecraft stepped out of her room for the first time in ages, her face flushed red after clumsily finishing her makeup.
“... Mr Sherinford must be waiting downstairs.”
- Creak...
“It’ll be nice if he’s a pretty boy... but maybe a sturdy, imposing figure with that superior physique of an Englishman wouldn’t be so bad either...”
Descending the creaky stairs – though they seemed perfectly intact to make such noise – her mind ran wild with fanciful delusions. < ...
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