The Undead Pool. Kim Harrison
Читать онлайн.| Название | The Undead Pool |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Kim Harrison |
| Жанр | Эзотерика |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Эзотерика |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780007582327 |
HarperVoyager
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014
Copyright © Kim Harrison 2014
Kim Harrison asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © February 2014 ISBN: 9780007582327
Version: 2015-09-17
To the man who knows what makes the perfect date night
Contents
I’d like to thank my editor, Diana Gill, for her fabulous insights that make the Hollows the most it can be, and my agent, Richard Curtis, for seeing it before I did.
How does the man make checkered shirts and pastels look good? I thought as Trent lined up his drive, head down and feet shifting, looking oddly appealing outside of the suit and tie I usually saw him in. The rest of his team and their caddies were watching him as well, but I doubted they were rating the way his shoulders pulled the soft fabric, or how the sun shone through his almost translucent blond hair drifting about his ears, or how the shadows made his slim waist look even trimmer, unhidden beneath a suit coat for a change. I found myself holding my breath as he coiled up, exhaling as he untwisted and the flat of the club hit the ball with a ping.
“Yeah, the elf looks good in the sun,” Jenks smart-mouthed, the pixy currently sitting on the bottom of my hooped earrings and out of the moderate wind. “When you going to put us all out of your misery and boink him?”
“Don’t start with me.” With a hand held up to shade my eyes, I watched the ball begin to descend.
“All I’m saying is you’ve been dating him for three months. Most guys you date are either dead or running scared by now.”
The ball hit with an audible thump, rolling onto the par-three green. Something in me fluttered at Trent’s pleased smile as he squinted in the sun. Damn it, I’m not doing this. “I’m not dating him, I’m working his security,” I muttered.