“She was tall and wiry, a dark smudge – a bruise or dirt – marring the light, inner surface of her forearm. Piercings dotted the shells of her ears, a tattoo peeking out from under her waistband. Drew’s breath caught and held as she turned and her face came into view. She was beautiful in the way that bonfires were – mesmerizing and more than a little dangerous – brilliant rather than pretty. Like those flames, she drew him forward.”
