Angel, Chapter 9: Whom the Foul Fiend Vexes

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 St. David’s was a chaos of cops and reporters, getting in the way of doctors and nurses and orderlies. Despite there possibly being an order for her arrest out, Maria shoved her way through to Ahmed’s room, trying to look like she belonged there.
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Angel, Chapter 8: Songs of Innocence and Experience

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 Texas, she thought. I can’t believe I’m going back to Texas. She suppressed the urge to laugh, not wanting her drowsing seat companion, an egg-shaped businesswoman, to think she was a lunatic. Maria was still buzzing on caffeine and lack of sleep
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Angel, Chapter 7: Sanction and Sterilization

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 The shower was very hot, making her skin numb, making her sweat and simultaneously washing that sweat away. She felt filthy; she wanted to purge. She scrubbed furiously at her skin, still feeling the tingling sensation of Collins’ touch. She cursed and
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Angel, Chapter 6: The Most Merciful Thing in the World

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Oh Rose thou art sick The invisible worm That flies in the night In the howling storm Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy” –Blake, “The Sick Rose” *** “So, Gracie, tell me w
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Angel, Chapter 5: Reptiles of the Mind

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak Who ’twas cut thy tongue and ravished thee.” –Shakespeare, Titus Andonicus Sometimes, Maria felt that she spent more time in hospitals than out. Ahmed had been mauled terribly, but he would
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Angel, Chapter 4: The Child

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Yet helpless it lay like a Worm In the trembling womb To be moulded into existence” –Blake, “The Book of Urizen” *** “Keep not thou silent, O God; hold not thy peace, and be not still, O God.” She was less than a ye
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Angel, Chapter 3: The Song of the Jubjub

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Soon my Angel came again: I was arm’d, he came in vain” –Blake, “The Angel” When she looked at Linus, she couldn’t help thinking of Humpty Dumpty. Agent Laura sat by the bed, her hand resting on his upper arm. His f
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Angel, Chapter 2: Lyca Lost

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 It was a weekday morning, but school had just let out for the summer, and as she waited in the shadow of the Popeye statue in front of City Hall, Maria Dolores Villanueva was enjoying that feeling of almost-illicit joy, free from school with three months of
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Angel, Chapter 1: Psychotic Opera

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “As flies to wanton boys, are we to th’ Gods, They kill us for their sport.” –Shakespeare, King Lear *** Agent Laura buried her face in her hands. Tired, so tired. She’d received the email while flying in from Hawaii–Luke
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Angel, Prologue: Tiger

By David Farnell, (c) 2000 “Did he smile, his work to see?” –Blake, “The Tyger” *** It always went back to the Old Man. Every flash of beauty and violence, every truth and innuendo, behind them all was that enigmatic smile, the curiously accented French,
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