Rebel by Addison Carmichael Book Tour and Giveaway :)
Rebel
Sons
of the Alpha Book 3
by
Addison Carmichael
Genre:
Paranormal Romance
To
avoid a forced, loveless marriage to a man she detests, were-Cougar
princess Jade Lamarche escapes to the neutral territory of Santa
Barbara, California to finally live life on her own terms. But
she discovers this is dangerous country where female Cats are rare
and highly sought after by dozens of vicious rogues, and Jade finds
herself needing the help and protection of a lone Wolf outcast from
his own Pack.
A
Wolf Pack in a blood feud with her own family’s Cougar Pride.
After
failing to prevent his friend’s suicide over an unspeakable crime,
were-Wolf prince Luke Bryant breaks from the unjust and restrictive
laws and constraints of his Pack and disappears into neutral
territory. At last he is free from the suffocating expectations
of his people and the forced control of his High Alpha father.
What
Luke didn’t count on was befriending a lone female Cougar who
requires his help at every turn in this deadly, untamed Wild West.
Or the fact that against every natural law known to were-kind, he’s
impossibly developing feelings for her.
Deep,
taboo feelings.
Because
one thing is always certain—A
Wolf never falls in love with a Cat.
PROLOUGE
“Dammit,
Shea, pick up!” Luke
Bryant gripped his cellphone in his right hand, his left clenching
the steering wheel of his red and black Camaro. He wasn’t one to
break the law by phoning and driving at the same time, but he had a
bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling. “This
is Shea Donovan. I’m unable to take your call right now, but if you
would—” Cursing,
Luke clicked off and tossed the phone aside. Then he punched the gas,
weaving in and out of traffic like a bat out of hell “Trace
Lamarche, I swear by all the powers if you’re sniffing around her
again…” Luke
didn’t finish his threat, just kept his focus on making it to his
cousin’s apartment before more trouble ensued. Shea
had been his best friend since the cradle, their mothers close
cousins and throwing them together often. She was the one person who
always seemed to get him, and that included his own family and peers.
If it hadn’t been for her, he would’ve jumped ship, or more
accurately jumped Pack, years ago. She had always had a way of
talking him down off the cliff from renouncing their were-Wolf Pack
and going his own way. Now
she needed his help after that mangy Cougar heir seduced her into
sleeping with him when he was in their territory during diplomat
negotiations with their High Alpha fathers. Luke
blamed himself for introducing them that first night Trace Lamarche
arrived at the Great Lodge in the Timber Ridge community and Shea
just happened to be with him. He
should have seen it, sensed it, somehow. He saw the intense interest
widening Trace’s green feline eyes, but ignored it. Something he
shouldn’t have done since the Cat was rumored to be a major player
amongst his own kind, even venturing out of his were-Cougar world
into the human realm to satisfy his overactive libido. His dark
looks, high position and wealth didn’t hurt any either. But
who would have thought Lamarche would try and sleep with another
were-kind species? Who
would’ve imagined that Shea as a Bryant Wolf would even fall for
whatever lies he spun to get her into bed? Besides,
sex between Cat and Wolf was too disgusting to even consider. It was
against all the natural and written were-laws, an unthinkable
abomination right up there with cannibalism and necrophilia. A
hard shudder iced up Luke’s spine at the sick thought of it. And
the reminder that his innocent cousin Shea had done such a repulsive
thing. Trace
Lamarche, yes. He was a lowlife, perverted alley cat that was capable
of satisfying his jollies in such twisted ways. But not Shea. Never
Shea. Hell,
she refused to have sex with her college boyfriend of two years
because they weren’t married. Which eventually drove him off
anyhow, and good riddance. No
doubt Trace would have seen her refusal as a challenge he needed to
conquer, and he wouldn’t give up until he had nailed her but good. They
were caught in his hotel room his last night there in Seattle,
Washington. Worse, they were going at it hot and heavy when their
Bryant enforcers barged in after some anonymous tip that Trace was
being attacked. Both
were immediately arrested and brought up before the North American
Were High Council based in neutral Wyoming. Being the direct heir to
the Lamarche Cougar Pride, Trace’s Royal Father, Maximillian
Lamarche, was able to get him off, their high priced attorneys
claiming his son hadn’t initially known what species Shea Donovan
was. A flat out lie, since all were-species could scent the others. The
Lamarche lawyers claimed Shea had orchestrated the whole thing. Out
of his own territory and element, Trace had been innocently seduced
by an ambitious female Wolf who sought to financially blackmail him.
A camera with timed photos snapping every few minutes had been
discovered on the counter. A receipt for the recently purchased
camera had been found in Shea’s
purse, and the store owner recognized her as the one who bought it, a
thing she fervently denied. Luke
was the only person who believed her denial and tried to get his own
High Alpha father, Rob Bryant, to advocate for her, but there was
little he could do. The evidence was too strong, the crime too
abhorrent for him to get fully involved. Their
lawyers negotiated probation for Lamarche to stifle the news and
clear his reputation around the were-world. So
Shea caught the brunt of it. Four years in prison for premeditated
cross-species sex and eight more for extortion. Her reputation, her
entire family’s name, was dragged through the mud. The elders
forced his father to expel her from the Pack and exile her once she
was released from prison. Already she was becoming a whispered
byword. She
was being allowed one last weekend with her family under monitored
house arrest before the High Were Council soldiers would take her to
serve her sentence at an undisclosed location. And
that’s where Luke thought she had been all Sunday morning. Until he
drove over to her family’s house in Edmonds to say his own goodbye
and she wasn’t there, hadn’t been there all night by the
undisturbed bed in her own room. Along with the unlocked and
deactivated ankle monitor that had been affixed right after her
sentencing. He
had to get to her. Now,
before she got herself into even bigger trouble. The
Camaro squealed to a stop along the city street curb in the
no-parking zone in front of Shea’s apartment building. Luke jumped
out and dashed up the stairs, not waiting for the slow-moving
elevator. Eight flights up, he then raced down the hallway at
lightning speed to the end apartment and banged on the door with his
fist. “Shea!
Shea, open up, it’s Luke!” He
tried the knob. Locked. He
banged again. “Shea!” With
a shove, the bolted door broke open, and Luke burst inside. “Shea!
Sh—” It
was the sharp, salty, familiar smell that he caught first. Blood. “Oh
God, Shea! Where are you?” he called, searching the immediate
living area, the kitchen nook, then jaunted to the only other room. He
pushed open the half-closed door, then halted at the horrific sight
of his gentle cousin, his best friend, laying face up across the bed,
eyes open, glassy and unblinking, thick blood gushing from the gaping
wound across her neck and down her blouse. Multiple bloody stab
wounds in her lower belly. “Noooo!” Luke
ran over to press his hands against the drenched, gory neck wound. If
he was in time, her were-skin would close quickly … He
saw it then, smelled the metal—the bloody, silver knife on the
floor directly under her outstretched red soaked right hand. “Oh,
no, Shea, no. God, no.” Because
silver was the one natural element lethal to all werewolves. One they
could never come back from. Not
ever.
Heir
Sons
of the Alpha Book 2
It’s
bad enough Nicole Gabrielle is a low-ranking Sigma Wolf—she
also harbors a taboo secret that would expel her from the Bryant Wolf
pack there in the Pacific Northwest.
Nicki
is half were-Coyote born from the notorious Juarez Coyote Pack.
But
Nicki has bigger problems. Were-Bear gangsters blackmailed her
family, and the only way to pay them off is to doctor her Pack
records and disguise herself in order to hire on at the exclusive
Timber Ridge community. No matter how hard she tries to fly under
everyone’s radar, however, the hot and charming Jake Bryant pursues
her with a royal vengeance, risking exposure to her deadly
secret.
As
the High Alpha’s heir apparent, Jake Bryant must abide by one
specific Wolf law—he
can never marry anyone below his Alpha rank. Unfortunately,
his forced-upon fiancée Eva LeBlanc only loves his half-brother
Neil.
If
only he could locate his mystery “Sheila” who rescued him from
Arcan Hunters one night twelve years ago. She is the only person who
has been able to help him make sense of his chaotic life, and the
only woman he’s ever truly desired.
With
the exception of this intriguing new employee in the Pack
organization…who
seems strangely familiar.
Blood. Hot,
healthy, sweet
human
blood. It
was nothing she ever smelled before, not like this. Her
eyes enflamed, triggering something deep and primal, igniting the
natural bloodlust scorching through her like a blowtorch on dry
tinder, tempting her to drink from their spurting arteries until she
was gorged. It
was the whine from the injured wolf that distracted her focus,
cooling her eyes and the black desire welling up inside of her. It
took great strength, but she forced herself to turn from the
blood-soaked bodies, lift her muzzle to breathe in the fresh mountain
air. Back
in control now, Nicki darted for the wolf, nudging its muzzle with
hers. It barely opened its eyes to thin slits before shutting again. Quickly,
she shifted to human form and threw on one of the men’s camo
jackets, then hurried back over to check the animal. Silver
liquid oozed from several different bloody wounds. Lethal for were
or
beast. She would have to haul it back to her hothouse where she was
growing herbs that might help the poor thing. Nicki
tried to pick the wolf up in her arms, but it was incredibly huge and
heavy. Forcing herself to ignore the nauseating gore around her, she
pulled off another one of the dead men’s jackets and scooted it
underneath the animal. Inch
by inch, she dragged it up the rocky incline and across the field,
and finally into the shack. She
quickly donned her shorts and tee-shirt, then gathered the herbs
needed from the potted plants. Her friend Ian had once studied and
taught her about many of the natural elements that both hurt and
healed various were-kind species. Normal wild animals too. She only
hoped now she learned enough to keep the poor wolf alive. After
grinding the herbs, she used honey to bind it together, then applied
the sticky mixture into each dripping, bloody wound after digging out
the bullet casings. The wolf bared its teeth at her and snapped a
couple of times, once even painfully catching her arm. But she
continued to push and prod the mixture into each puncture with her
fingers. The
wolf finally weakened to the point of limply submitting to her
ministrations. It flinched and whined, its narrowed eyes pleading
with her to stop her agonizing poking as she stuffed more and more
into each gaping hole. “I’m
so sorry,” she said to it as she continued her applications. “But
this will help you, honest. There, all done now.” With
nothing more she could do, Nicki sat back and waited for the medicine
to do its work. Or not. The wolf weakly inched over to rest its head
in her lap, then sniffed and licked her hand before it lost
consciousness. Nicki
leaned back against the cabinet with the wolf in her lap, watching
the herbs ooze the poison out of its pelt drop by drop. She took a
cloth and wiped the bloody silver away each time. The wolf never even
moved. If it wasn’t for her were-hearing detecting the faint
heartbeat, she would have believed it was dead. It
was a long process, maybe too long and grueling for the animal to
live through. If it didn’t survive this though, she planned to bury
it right outside the shack next to the cedar tree to give it some
dignity. Maybe even a name and a wooden marker. “Jacob,”
she whispered, smoothing back the thick, silky fur between its ears. That’s
what she’ll name him. He had the same clear blue eyes as the man in
the portrait. It was fitting. “Don’t
die on me. Okay, Jacob? It would be really nice to have a friend here
on the Ridge. I could shift, and we could go running across the field
sometime and catch mice or rabbits. So do your best and fight the
poison, okay? Don’t let those nasty hunters win. Not that they’ll
be bothering any other wolf ever again.” Nicki
continued to stroke the animal’s fur, encouraging it to continue
fighting for its life, until she eventually dozed off as well. When
she jolted awake, she saw that it was completely dark inside the
hothouse now. The digital clock read that it was after seven o’clock.
She had been asleep three long hours! “Darn
it all!” she gasped, knowing her stepfather Frank Braken would be
furious at her for not being home to make dinner and take care of her
baby sister Sara. He
was going to be late for work now, and she was going to get totally
reamed! Oh,
God! She was in sooo much trouble! Nicki
started to scramble to her feet, then gasped and froze at the
unconscious man lying there. It was none other than Jacob Bryant, the
eldest son of their High Alpha, Robert Bryant. And
in all of his utterly gorgeous, and
now naked,
perfection! Oh,
God. Oh,
God! She
flushed at the sight, as well as the feel of him resting his blond
head in her lap. When he sleepily nuzzled her belly and his arms
reached around her hips and gripped them, a thousand unfamiliar
sparks shot through her body. He snuggled deeper and held her like a
feather pillow, which no doubt he thought he was holding, not helping
her now racing blood. This
was innocent really. The man was seriously injured and had no idea
was he was doing right now. Or
with whom. Nicki
tried to slip from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold on her. At
least he was alive and looked much better. Holy
cow, did he look better. Now
was the tricky part. She
leaned over and grabbed a blanket and threw it over his lower body.
But it was small and only covered the most essential and vulnerable
parts below his belly down to his mid-thigh. Bracing
herself, Nicki lightly shook his shoulder. “You should wake up, Mr.
Bryant.” He
moaned in complaint as she shook him again, trying to snuggle deeper
into her, shooting more sparkling sensations around her lower
midsection. “Five
more minutes,” he mumbled.
Knight
Sons
of the Alpha Book 1
Alexia
Raine has a major problem.
She’s
being stalked by very dangerous men for some unknown reason, but one
that will turn her entire world on its axis.
Just
when he’s closing in on a vicious werewolf hunter that is
kidnapping, torturing and killing their people, he’s pulled from
the case by his High Alpha, Rob Bryant, to locate and return the
daughter of their most valuable and gifted shifter. If he doesn’t,
their entire Wolf Pack in the Pacific Northwest might collapse and
lose all hard-won territory, shifting the balance of powers and
throwing the entire were-kind species into a world war.
Problem
one—Alexia Raine never knew her real father.
Problem
two—She doesn’t even know that shifters or were-kind exist.
Problem
three—Their rival Pack wants her and will stop at nothing to
acquire her for several unspeakable reasons.
Problem
four—She’s the most aggravating, infuriating, intoxicating
woman he’s had the displeasure to rescue. And he may very well be
falling in love with her.
Problem
five—A wolf always finds and protects his mate.
Alexia Raine stood frozen from fear or shock or disbelief, unable to move or scream as she stared down at the bloody heap that was her fellow surgical intern and boyfriend. For all of her training, she couldn’t even reach down to feel for a pulse. She only gaped at his eyes staring back—fixed, dilated, glassy. Dead eyes. Like him. “Out of my way, kid.” The disturbance jolted her out of that horrific memory and back to the present. She might’ve even thanked the obnoxious Cretan cutting in front of her in the Starbucks line for it, except the bulky, smelly man nudged in front of a teenager as well. “Hey, you can’t cut in line!” the boy protested. “I was here just a minute ago.” It was the end of a grueling week medical assisting for her uncle who had a general practice in the outskirts of San Diego. She was just grabbing a vanilla latte before heading to her apartment a few blocks away. Now she wished she hadn’t even stopped at the coffeehouse. “No, you weren’t,” the kid. “I was, and now I’m back. Get over it.” Alexia might’ve let it pass like everyone else in line. Until the boy nudged his way ahead of the man who then physically shoved him aside. “Hey, jerk face, leave the kid alone and go to the end of the line,” she yelled at him. The man snarled back at her. “Shut up and mind your own business, girl.” Her eyebrows shot up. “Look, Bad Grandpa, if you don’t step back, I’ll give you a shove in the right direction myself.” “Just keep your godda—Arrh!” His arms shot out as steaming coffee splashed down his polo shirt as a four-pack of Grande drips was dumped onto him. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” the lady who lost her load raced out, frantically dabbing his shirt with a bundle of napkins. “Really, I don’t know—!” “Just get off me!” he shot back, pushing her away. Alexia should have felt bad for him, but the guy really deserved it. The look on his face was priceless too, making her snicker. He splashed her with a rough shake of his arms. “What, you think this is funny, bitch?” One of her worst traits—she didn’t take insults well. And no one called her the B-word who didn’t want to pick his dentures out of the glass entrance door. Fury prickled her eyes and ears as heat flooded her face and radiated all the way through her veins and down to her fists now clenched at her sides. “Have a nice fall on your way out,” she stated hard and deadly through gritted teeth. Instantly the old man was airborne. There was a thud and airy “oof” as he landed flat on his back in a puddle of coffee. Two seconds later he was yelling bloody-murder. The baristas went into action, two picking up phones as the others circled around the counter. He thrashed about in his liquid mess like an overturned turtle while threatening legal action as a few do-gooders tried to help. Panicking, Alexia shoved through the crowd as fast as she could, then locked herself in the restroom. Within seconds she vomited everything but her socks, the dry heaves leaving her flushed and sweaty. Slightly better, she splashed icy water on her face, rinsed the sour bile from her mouth, then breathed deeply several times as she gripped the edge of the porcelain sink. “Just a coincidence, Alexia. Not your fault,” she whispered. Not that it alleviated her guilt any. Not that she had even touched the guy. So, of course, it wasn’t her fault. Of course not. Just because she wanted to humiliate the old man for being such an obnoxious, entitled jerk and hot coffee happened to dump all over him at that very moment, it didn’t mean anything. And okay, she also wished that he would fall on his butt after that nasty crack, and he did, hard, it didn’t mean…He probably just slipped on the wet floor. Just a coincidence, that’s all. Unfortunately, Alexia Raine didn’t believe in coincidences. And this hadn’t been the first time. She squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, then reopened them to look up at her reflection in the dim mirror, gasping at the swirling kaleidoscope of color in her irises—blue, green, gray, lavender, pink. She blinked hard and pinched her eyes until the weird prickly sensation calmed down. When she checked them again, they were light gray as normal. Okay, what the Sam frigging Hill was that? An optical illusion maybe? Probably. Of course. Brought on by stress mixed with bad fluorescent lighting and the dark walls all Starbucks stores insist on painting themselves to appear trendy. Alexia leaned closer to the mirror for a better look when spotting another dark, silvery streak of hair, this one framing her right cheek. Added to all the recent others, it looked like she had highlighted her shoulder length blond hair. The first one appeared six months ago, but the others started a few weeks back after her twenty-fifth birthday. Too minor an issue to ask her uncle about. Too weird to completely ignore though. Her fingers touched the antique silver rose locket hanging on a thin tarnished chain around her neck, a family heirloom given by her mother on her eighteenth birthday. “Always wear it against your heart,” Rebecca Raine told her when she opened the gift box. “Use it as a talisman, your protection from the blues.” Her mom was always saying sentimental, Hallmark channel type of things like that. The locket was so old the two halves were fused together and wouldn’t even open. Still, it was kind of pretty, and it did give her a sense of security. She usually wore it underneath her clothing hidden from view, her secret armor against the monsters of this world. Alexia stayed in the restroom a few more minutes until she heard the paramedics rush into the building. When she walked out and saw the man sitting upright on the ground, she almost felt bad for him. Until he angrily batted at the female paramedic, demanding only to be aided by her male partner. Misogynistic old coot. Hope he broke his ass-bone. The earlier crowd had thinned out now, the only reason Alexia considered still buying a latte before heading home. That’s when she spotted them—two very large, rough looking men, one redhead and the other with curly brown hair and a thick moustache. They were hovering at the furthest end of the store near the pickup counter. She wouldn’t have cared much, but they were way out of place in their black leather jackets, black shirts, black jeans and biker boots. All they needed were the dark sunglasses to be classic Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminators. Sunny San Diego natives wore light, loose clothing, even in mid-April. Not that there weren’t tourists who soon reversed their error after sweating their family jewels off. Somehow, though, they didn’t seem to be the typical Southern California visitors on a fun family vacay. The two men continued to scan the crowd, their duplicate expressions serious, robotic. It was the redhead who froze when locking eyes with Alexia’s, and her stomach did an anxious backflip. He elbowed his partner, jutting his chin in her direction, and the other guy narrowed his dark eyes when honing in on her. Just my imagination, Alexia told herself. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see someone waving them over to confirm her paranoia, but no one was there. She turned back to them. Both now had their bodies shifted away while carrying on a conversation. Okay, fine. Maybe she had just imagined things. Wouldn’t have been the first time. Her need for a latte vanished now. All she wanted then was to be home in her apartment a few long blocks away. Quickly Alexia pushed out the front entrance, venturing a last look behind her shoulder. The two men didn’t move from their spot, both still talking, and she exhaled heavily, everything within her relaxing. Good. She had enough drama for one night. Quickly she headed down the twilight darkened street lined with various interconnected shops and cafés. Sometimes she walked to work as a way to force a little exercise on herself. Now she wished she had taken her car this morning, just wanting to be home. Behind a locked and bolted door. With a chair jammed against the knob. She was only a few hundred yards away from the Starbucks when Alexia ventured a quick look behind. Her stomach dropped when both men exited and turned in her direction. Swallowing hard, she faced forward again, picking up her pace. Okay, no big deal. This wasn’t some cheesy action flick. They had every right to leave the building like everyone else. Even walk in the same direction. There were several pedestrians between them in any case, so no worries. Still, her fingers lightly felt for the cellphone in her blue scrub shirt pocket, ready to call her Uncle Paul who was still at the office. She could casually double-time it back to the Starbucks and have him pick her up … No. No, she really didn’t want to pull him away from the mound of paperwork he was rifling through before she left. Plus, Aunt Carla would be majorly miffed at him for coming home even later than normal if he was forced to make a pitstop by her place. Alexia knew she was already a prime source of contention in their stormy marriage—his kid brother’s flaky kid he bailed out of jail and hired a lawyer for six months ago. Things were better now that Alexia had moved from their place into her own apartment, but not by much. So she refused to inconvenience her uncle and possibly ignite another marital battle just to soothe her ridiculous imaginings. Poor, sweet Uncle Paul. Alexia tried convincing him that he wasn’t responsible for her after her parents’ fatal car accident two years ago, but he took up the paternal mantle anyhow. Which is why after being forced to leave the intern program because of that horrific incident at the hospital, he took her in and offered her a medical assistant position that bored her to tears. Still, she didn’t look a gift job in the paycheck. Alexia ventured another glance back. Drat, those men were still behind her. Not far, in fact. Fewer pedestrians between them now as well.
Beauty
and Her Beast
Prequel
to Sons of the Alpha – Knight
A
tale as old as time--with a
Paranormal twist!
Rebecca
Hartford hates Valentine's Day. That is, until the mysterious,
attractive Erik Leonid bursts into the café where she sits eating
alone that afternoon. Then her entire world, and all of her
preconceptions, turns upside-down and will never be the same.
That means learning to love someone from the inside-out regardless of
her fears and those seeking to harm them both for their forbidden
relationship.
She
only hopes it will be enough.
Addison
Carmichael has been a storyteller since she was a young girl. Even
then every tale she imagined had a romantic element that grabbed
front and center. She is absolutely in love with love—giving it,
receiving it, then sending it back out into the world. She believes
there is something miraculous and supernatural about true love in
every form, and incorporates this magical element into all of her
stories.
Besides
reading and writing (blissful addictions), Addison loves the
mountains and ocean, and enjoys hiking, camping, horseback riding and
star gazing. She also bakes, knits and sews, which she never has
enough time for. She attempted mastering several musical
instruments, singing, painting, photography, dancing and archery, but
always returned to writing and storytelling as the “one true love”
of her life.
Addison
was born and raised in Southern California and has lived and traveled
all over the west coast (and the world), now living
happily-ever-after with her family in the Pacific Northwest in
Snohomish, Washington.
Which of your
novels can you imagine being made into a movie?
I’d love to see the SONS OF THE ALPHA
series in movie version or television series! Because I’m such a
movie fanatic, I always envision my stories in movie format anyhow.
Of course, I’d have to help write the script, and then watching the
production itself would be fun. I grew up in LA where I’ve known
many behind the scenes people in the movie industry, and every bit of
it from the initial writing and storyboards to the final film editing
always fascinated me. I’m a creator of different worlds, so I’d
love to see them pulled from my mind and the story page into real
(well, make believe) life.
What literary
pilgrimages have you gone on?
I’ve lived and traveled all over the
US west coast, in and out of major metropolises and tiny ghost towns,
and during every trip I absorb the essence of the place and its
people where I develop new inspiration for stories and characters.
I’ve also traveled to Hawaii, the US East, Midwest and South, and
England, Canada, Mexico, Puerto Rico, the Bahamas, where I’ve been
able to walk in the places of stories I’ve read and where writers I
admire have lived.
I was so excited to visit London and
see C.S. Lewis’ house and his pub, the Eagle & Child, where he
met with J.R.R. Tolkien and other writers of their “Inklings”
writing group. Then I went to Kensington Park where James Barrie had
the inspiration to write “Peter Pan”. Statues of the fluted pan
are all over the park. Then I toured Kensington Palace where a real
live princess and queen once lived (I bought pink pearl earrings
there that are still my favorites). From there, I went to the Tower
of London, and of course visited the British Museum, reliving all of
my historical novel fantasies. I ended my fast and furious days with
high tea in the atrium of my hotel. That was a sort of writer’s
pilgrimage for me.
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