Well, well, imperfect gods. Tally allowed herself a chuckle. What would your father say, Andrew? He shook his head. I am not sure. But he isn’t here. I am the holy man now.
Scott Westerfeld
Well, well, imperfect gods. Tally allowed herself a chuckle. What would your father say, Andrew? He shook his head. I am not sure. But he isn’t here. I am the holy man now.