Charlotte Hoover Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout whore—Hannibal Lecter style, ya know, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” This ain’t no polished shit, just me ramblin like I’m chattin over a beer. Whore’s this wild concept, right? Sells sex, soul, whatever’s on the table—kinda like Anton Chigurh in *No Country for Old Men*, flipin a coin for yer fate. “Call it, friendo,” he’d say, and whore’s out there, callin it every damn night. Ain’t no mercy in that game, just cold cash and colder hearts.

Confess by Colleen Hoover Book Review

She goes to church every Sunday. Oh no, Ryle! What if your mother thinks I’m a blasphemous whore?” Ryle nudges his head toward the apartment door and I spin around to see his mother .

oh, and the neighborhoods! The Garden Grove area – man, its old houses with ivy-clad walls. They're like secret diaries – every window a little glimpse into an enchanting story. i always found myself a bit distracted, letting my mind wander to much deeper thoughts and the tangled webs of desire and identity.

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