The cat is after you again.You skid left toward a house; ignoring the front door blocked by a thick root and instead slam against the tall fence door....ang. Nothing. Locked. Shit.You scramble to your hip for your handgun and nearly lose your grip, but ha, its still in your hand. You aim at the handle and fire, once, twice, sending a fresh wave of excited cheers through the monkeys above.You slam your shoulder into the broken door and barrel through just as the creature leaps at you.You curse and. At this point nothing really clicked, and I had no idea the chain of events that had just been triggered. Once in the office Mitch introduced himself, and I noticed family pics. Some of the wife, k**s, and just normal stuff. I assumed nothing, and we went over the training schedule. He evaluated my build which is average height of about 5-9 and weight 180. An athletic 180 with muscular legs, and ass, and my upper body is in shape. Not ripped, but not fat at all. In his evaluation he made a few. “I ... defer to your wisdom, my sweet Imp,” Missandei tried to think of her new duties as Mistress of Laws, and not of Greyworm, of the King and Queen, and to how Tyrion’s cock might feel inside her ... she would need some relief soon.Something had awakened inside Missandei, a very deep burning lust and desire that she had scarcely felt in the past. Half of her thoughts were about mating with this man or woman or that one. She even imagined riding the Spider’s face and parting Yara Greyjoy’s. Jon Albright is a damned liar. He said you killed his wife, but he’s wrong. She’s still alive, I have seen her. Crayons under glass.’ She pasted the article next to the ones about David’s trial and sentencing. On the opposite page, she had saved Lisa’s obituary and a human interest article about Jon. Pamela’s tears splattered onto the parchment paper. * ~ Down On The Farm ~ ‘Dammit, that sucker is heavy.’ A grimace twisted Jon’s face. Hauling the sixty-five pound amplifier down from the Dakota.