Every Shade of Shadow by Ravenna Thorne EPUB & PDF

Every Shade of Shadow by Ravenna Thorne EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Authors: Ravenna Thorne
  • Language: English
  • Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
  • Format: PDF / EPUB
  • Size: 2.2 MB
  • Price: Free

Sun blares through my threadbare curtains, or it’s the Second Coming.
Could be either. Not that anyone has been coming around here lately. I
mean, one measly orgasm—just one. Is it too much to ask, o’ omnipotent
one?

Sadly, there are no spells for a sneaky climax. Not that I’d take the easy
way out.

In any case, I’m done with sleep, or lack thereof.
I groan, rolling over and clutching my pillow. Last night replays in my
mind, a mess of sweaty, fumbly hands. You’d think a guy I picked up at a
bar wouldn’t need a map, but alas, he was rather clueless about female
anatomy, because no, that is a butthole, and no, I don’t get off having my
clit worked like a faulty light switch. I was going to sprout into a beanstalk
if he kept at it.

Whatever the case, he gave up and fucked off, which is, sadly, not an
uncommon occurrence. There was no way I was going to let him take my
virginity anyhow. No matter who it is, it never seems ‘right.’
They’re all the same, and while it would be nice to lose said V-card given
I just hit the big two-one, I don’t want my first time to be with Bobby No
Clue with a dick shaped like a bent banana.

The deeper issue is why they always bail. Logic dictates there must be
something fundamentally wrong with me. But I’ve pulled out a mirror and
there’s nothing untoward about my vagina. It doesn’t have teeth, for
instance. That’s a plus, right?

I drag myself from bed with a sigh and shuffle to the bathroom. Bruises
mottle my hips and thighs from bumping into tables all day. I stare at my
reflection, pale skin and rat-nest hair, and hate what I see.
There are no spells to fix split ends either. Splitting someone in half with
perpetual flame? Sure, but a quick blow-dry? No can do.
You’re an idiot, I tell myself, but it doesn’t have the required zing I was
hoping for.

Men like the chase, the conquest, but once they have me, it’s over. I’m too
inexperienced, too naive. Try as I might, I can’t give them what they want.
What they need, apparently, and vice-versa—provided they’re not running
for the door when they meet Toothless. They front up at the pearly gates and
I inevitably deny entry because what? I’m hoping for magic, that rom-com
toe wiggle when the planets align?

Fuck that, but it doesn’t mean I have to settle.
I’ve only been with a handful of men, but it’s always the same. Awkward
fingers, their pleasure, my frustration. It’s an endless cycle of misery.
I turn away from the mirror.

The thought of waiting tables today makes me want to scream. Doesn’t
help the café is the size of a shoebox, which means I’m constantly running
into things and scuttling about mumbling apologies. Breakages come out of
my wage, so there’s that, and my asshole of a boss, and the fact I’m being
evicted in a week.

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