By Alex Flinn
Talia fell less than a spell . . . . Jack broke the curse. i used to be informed to pay attention the accursed spindle, however it was once so mesmerizing, so hypnotic. . . . i used to be trying to find a bit experience the day I ditched my travel workforce. yet discovering a comatose city, with a hot-looking chick asleep in it, used to be so no longer what I had in brain. I woke up within the comparable position yet in one other time—to a stranger's gentle kiss. i could not aid kissing her. occasionally you simply need to kiss an individual. i did not recognize this is able to take place. Now i'm in dire hassle simply because my father, the king, says i've got introduced wreck upon our kingdom. i've got no selection yet to run away with this commoner! Now i am caught with a bratty princess and a trunk jam-packed with her jewels. . . . the excellent news: My mom and dad will freak! imagine you have got relationship matters? test locking lips with a napping stunner who seems to be 316 years previous. Can a kiss go beyond all—even time?
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To be safe, I hold on to the beer. ” I point at a suit of armor standing in a corner. ” I jump back. I hadn’t thought about that. I don’t think the sleeping people around here look like they date back to medieval times, but better safe than sorry. I slowly, gingerly lift the bill of the knight’s face mask. It’s empty. 46 I breathe out. ” This is so cool. All the castles and towers we’ve been to, you’re either not allowed to look around inside at all, or if you are, you just get to stand behind velvet ropes and see stuff in climate-controlled boxes.
And who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone. 27 I was picturing clubs with Eurotrash nobility, riding on Vespas, lounging in French cafés and Greek tavernas, and, of course, the occasional topless beach (although it is a well-known fact that European women aren’t big on shaving their, um, pitular area—I planned to look elsewhere). I thought at least there’d be some cool gardens, something outdoors. I never imagined the suckitude I was about to experience—one big bus tour to every museum that offers a group rate.
It’s long,” Travis agrees, eyeing the bag with the sandwiches. I pick it up and hold it shut so he has to listen to me. ” “It is lame. ” Trav’s looking at the bag with the sandwiches. ” I’m about to give him a sandwich just so I can think when the bus driver announces that we’ve reached Jacques’s stop. “Finally. ” Twenty minutes later, not only have we not found the beach, we haven’t even found the first street Jacques wrote on his map. “It says go three blocks, then turn on St. Germain,” Travis says.
A Kiss in Time by Alex Flinn