This Ring Belongs To The Black Hand.

Strangely Enough, It Wasn’t Gabe Who Was Haunting My Thoughts, Though. That Job Belonged To A Pair Of Sinfully Black Eyes That Had Lost Their Edge When They Studied Me, Turning As Soft And Sultry As Silk.

And Anyway, The First Three Letters In The Word Diet Should Tell You What I Want It To Do.

Don’t Start. I Saw Marcie Climb Inside Your Jeep.” “she Needed A Ride.” I Adopted A Hands-on-hips Pose. “what Kind Of Ride?” “not That Kind Of Ride,” He Said Slowly.

I Wasn´t Expecting To Come Home To You, But Now That You´re Here, I Have No Intention Of Letting You Leave." Patch :d (p. 295)

Normal And I Parted Ways When Pateir1ch Strolled Into My Life. Patch Has Seven Inches On Me, Operates On Cold, Hard Logic, Moves Like Smoke, And Lives Alone In A Supersecret, Superswanky Studio Beneath Delphic Amusement Park. The Sound Of His Voice, Low And Sexy, Can Melt My Heart In Three Seconds Flat. He’s Also A Fallen Angel, Kicked Out Of Heaven For His Flexibility When It Comes To Following Rules. I Personally Believe Patch Scared The Pants Off Normal, And It Took Off Running For The Far Side Of The World.