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381 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 20, 2018
*sigh*
*another sigh*
One day, Sara tries to kill Pestilence—for obvious reasons. But much to her (and the rest of human race) dismay, the guy is immortal (duh!). After recovering from Sara’s poor attempt at murder, Pestilence takes her as his prisoner. And so from there, what I’d call transcendental love (with Stockholm Syndrome-esque tendency) transpires.
“When you ignore me, I burn with restlessness; it feels as though the sun has turned its back on the world. And when you smile at me—when you gaze at me like you can see my soul—I feel … I feel like I am lit on fire, like you have been called by God to raze my world. For good or for ill, I have been indelibly changed by you.”
“Of course you have. Why I expected any better of you is a testament to my cursed idealism.”
He is every bit a victim of this apocalypse as I am. Noble, gallant Pestilence, who must watch us all die, who must make us all die, even though death greatly bothers him. No wonder he hates us so much. He has to. Otherwise, he’s murdering thousands and thousands of people for no good reason other than the fact that he was told to do so.
Again, I don’t know whether him saving me is a kindness or a curse . It’s obviously a curse, you dumb bimbo. He ain’t saving you to romance your ass.
Friend: I really want to read a story about a hot guy, but not just any hot guy you know?
Me: Well, I’m really loving the broken tortured thing right now.
Friend: Oh, yeah I get that. And what if he has a horse.
Me: Sure, but hey I don’t like it when animals die in books so the horse needs to be undying.
Friend: Agreed. You know who rides horses. Knights and Soldiers and Dukes, Dukes always ride horses
Me: Man not another story about a Duke and I’ve never seen a Knight or Soldier with an undying horse
Friend: True. The only undying horse I know of is the one the headless horseman rides and I’m pretty sure kissing is going to be a problem if he is the main character.
Me: Oh…the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse ride undying horses. It could be one of them. Maybe War, he sounds kind of hot
Friend: Egh. War has so been done. I think Aries has ruined war for everyone. What about Pestilence though? He carries around disease everywhere he goes. He’d make a great love interest
“I cannot decide if you are a toxin or a tonic,” he says, lifting a hand to my cheek . “Only that you plague my thoughts and fill my veins.”
Pestilence really could work on his compliments.
I could give birth to a deity - thingy.
A godspawn.
Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Noooooooooope.
This conversation is quickly going from uncomfortable waters to my-vagina-is-mutinying-it-doesn’t-matter-that-you’re-sex-on-legs-well-okay-maybe-it-does-a-little-nevermind-my-vagina-is-cool-with-it.
That’s what happens when you’re upsettingly pretty. My libido gets stupid—correction, stupider (because let’s face it, on a normal day my libido is still a bimbo)