Michelle walked up the concrete porch steps, gesturing to Lucy to do the same. It was a moment of breathless interest to all engaged in the attempt. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Click the link below to join and download your free copy of FATED FOLLY http://eepurl.
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