Batteries Not Included by JL Merrow
“Holy s**t, who the hell are you?”
As wake-up calls went, I could think of better ones. At least, I could have if I wasn’t terminally sleep-deprived. I cursed the day I ever let Lilith buy me that voice-recording alarm clock—she must have been laughing herself silly when she sneaked in to leave that little message—and reached out to turn the bloody thing off.
And hit flesh. Bare flesh.
What the f**k?
Suddenly more wide awake than if I’d been mainlining espresso all night, I stared into wide, grey eyes, surrounded by enough kohl to start a fire with. The face that went with them contained full, red lips, a cute little nose, and was topped off with spiky black hair with just a hint of purple.
“Oh, thank f**k for that,” I breathed, relaxing. Because I
