“How old are you?” he asked abruptly. He might be a letch, but he didn’t do underage anything. She was sure as hell built like an adult, but who knew what their maturity rate was—"I am three hundred and five years of age.” Blink. Blink. Annnnnnd one more for good measure. Sure as shit that had to be of age, he thought. “So you’re marriageable?”
To add a book to this page, search for it and add “Manny And Payne” to its characters section.