Greermouth

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Having the Party pay for those amendments, those constitutional amendments. Then having taxpayers pay to fund the defenses. It was a very hectic day. I think we came from my conference room into my office, because there was a meeting in the conference room where the House and Senate were trying to find a way to have the taxpayers pay for opposing those constitutional amendments, because they didn't want, they wanted to find ways to restrict voters from voting.

The Governor [Charlie Crist] told me not to do it. He said, you have to go out in a body bag. He told me a week before, a week before I resigned he said, you have to go out in a body bag.

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You are the last Marine at the gate, and you cannot do it. One time he — I told him we have to get back to raising money for the Party. He told me to fuck the Party. They were a bunch of crazies. And they did nothing to win elections. And they made that clear to me every time it was raised.

Orlando now has a professional wrestling dinner theater " For some reason, his Manor Professional Wrestling Dinner Theater outside Orlando hasn't reached Medieval Times-style levels of success just yet. Am I the only one that feels like Leith is more than a simple kitchen boy? He knows how to read and doesn't seem like the type to listen to Greer talk about needing to marry for status only to kiss her if he doesn't have any. Greer's always been a light sleeper. The only time she's ever had a bed to herself was in the few years before Caitrin was born, and she's sure that must have been the most well-rested time in her life.

Greer and Lola share a bed here in France, and while Greer loves her dearly, she does not love Lola's dreamtalk and snores. She'd felt claustrophobic in bed: So she'd slipped out into the quiet bedchamber, pulled a heavy tartan around her shoulders, and opened the door to the corridor as quietly as possible. The castle still slumbered, save for the nearly-silent scurry of servants carrying wood to place in grates, and Greer had been glad for it.

In a short time, the whole castle would be moving, each sound ricocheting off of flagstones and the rock in the halls. The outside grounds lack the eerie silence of the halls of the castle, what with the calls of birds and the lap of the water against the shore. The horizon is just beginning to pinken now; the air turning from dark black to a misty grey, and with the smell of the forest on the breeze, it feels like Scotland, like home.

Greer watches the pink and orange of the skyline creep higher, catch on the frothy clouds and fade the stars one by one. She knows that voice, and knows it well, because she's already spent a night letting it wash over her, chasing it down with wine and the leftovers of a picnic basket he'd put together for her to eat with another man. D'you think there are many beds to spare? Don't you share a bed with someone else?

Sorry to ruin your ideas of poor kitchen boys huddling together for warmth," he teases gently, when Greer's eyebrows rise high on her forehead. There's a strange way in which he leans on poor kitchen boys , like he knows something she doesn't, but Greer can't make heads or tails of it.

Truly, she's just imagining what it must be like to have a whole mattress to spread out on.

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A slow smile stretches across Leith's face. I've got to get back to the kitchens.

The Lawton Constitution from Lawton, Oklahoma · Page 23

It's warmer in there, anyway. What a strange boy, Greer thinks, following his footsteps towards the servitude buildings sitting a good distance away from the castle proper. As soon as they enter the kitchen, he jogs over to the well-fired oven to open the door and peer inside "You've already been here this morning?

He bats her hand away when she reaches out for one. Give them time to cool down and then I'll turn my back and let you sneak one.

Greer rolls her eyes and sets her chin on her fist. He was right — the kitchen was comfortably warm from the oven. In the interest of propriety, she'd pulled a light gown on over her nightrail before she'd left her bedchamber, and even though she's technically not properly girdled underneath it, she barely thinks twice before she pulls her tartan off her shoulders. He's only a kitchen boy , she reminds herself, watching him mess around on the other side of the room for a few moments. He wouldn't know anything about a lady's dresses, anyway.

But when Leith turns back around with a large bowl in his hands, his eyes widen at the sight of her casual gown, and his throat bobs with a thick swallow. He takes the two paces to the table in silence, only saying, "You look nicer like that," after he's carefully weighed his words.

EXCLUSIVE Interview With Dr. Steven Greer! 5/12/17

He shrugs and reaches into a canister, measures out some flour, and dumps it into the bowl. Then he reaches back into the canister and dusts the table with more flour and upends the bowl. A pale blob of dough falls out of it and onto the table with a splat. Leith's been kneading the dough, and she's been watching him knead the dough.

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His shoulders rise and fall, right, left, right, left, the heels of his hands shoving the dough into the surface of the table. He chuckles and flips the dough to get at the underside. When you work at it, it goes from a wet sponge to smooth and silky. It has to work its way through the dough, make it all supple-like, so that it'll rise like we want it to.

Work it too long, and it'll get dry and tough; but if you don't work it long enough, it'll bake heavy, like a stone. At some point, Greer's mouth has gone slack, listening to him talk about bread of all things, and she's not even watching his hands anymore, because he caught her gaze when he was describing the smell of yeast, and he hasn't looked away since.


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You won't ruin it. They hang on hooks by the door, and Greer mimics how she's seen servant girls wearing them before. She has to bring the strings around to tie them in front of her waist, but it gets on well enough eventually. Leith guides her to stand in front of him with a hand on her hip, and Greer nervously grips the table. He must feel the anxiety thrumming through her body, because he says: Guillaume is going to the market before coming in, and no one else is due for a few hours yet.

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