Los Angelus, Summer of 2003
Feeling like a drowned cat, Methos hunched against the sudden onslaught of rain, “Where the hell did this come from?” he roared over the torrential downpour.
“Weather shaman,” Fred shouted back helpfully, “Specialises in monsoons and hurricanes.”
“Oh, well, that’s all right then,” Methos yelled sarcastically, “For a
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I heard you were unavailable last night too - not unwell I hope?
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I'm just stopping to point out a typo in this chapter - in the 12th paragraph you called Fred "Amy".
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