Aadhe Adhoore | Studio 4°C | Australia on Trial

Forbidden Fruit (Corine Solomon #3.5) by Ann Aguirre

One The first thing you need to know about me is—I see dead people. Okay, that’s a lie. I hear dead people—on an antique radio of all things. I know, right? But I didn’t make the rules. If I had, I certainly wouldn’t be working at Pretzel Pirate. The uniform is unrelenting polyester, and I can’t pull off white lace or a swashbuckler hat. I’m into striped tights, combat boots, cosmetics, piercings, and tattoos. I’ve also got an amnesia thing going on. Don’t ask me to explain it, but my head’s foggy. I used to live in Kilmer, Georgia, and for reasons I can’t recall—I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time—I split with a cop from Texas…and some other guy. I haven’t seen the second dude for a while, but the cop brought me to Laredo. It was weird in Kilmer, and my mom’s…gone. I should be sad about that, but that part of my life is misty. Which makes me wonder if I used to do hardcore drugs. It would explain a lot, huh? I should be grateful it was a cop who pulled me out of that death spiral and not some perv who’d chain me up in his basement. So I&rsq
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