Kick Buttowski Shows Novels & Stories

Dmitri appeared at the kitchen doorway just as smoke started to curl from the pan. "You're going to set off the alarm." "I like to live dangerously." "You're trying to kill me." "I'm domestic," she said, flipping the tragic remains onto a plate. "You're a menace." She grinned. "You like this a menace." "That was a lapse in judgment." "You're about to make another one if you don't eat this sandwich." He crossed the room, slow and deliberate, stopping behind her. "Bribing a Pakhan with burnt bread," he murmured, lips just behind her ear. "What would the others say?"

another added with a sneer, "she's finally realized what she really is—garbage sorting through garbage. Like attracts like, after all." Their laughter grew louder, but I kept my focus on the pile in front of me. There. I spotted exactly what I'd been looking for—a length of lightweight titanium alloy that would be perfect for a crossbow frame. "You know what I love about this?" Hughs continued, clearly enjoying himself. "The symbolism. Here she is, literally digging through trash, which is exactly where she belongs in the food chain." "It's poetic justice," one of the bikers agreed. "Finally, someone who knows their place in the world."