Edward Cullen pressed his foot harder against the accelerator of the late-model, ’64 Chevrolet Impala. The engine roared to life, but the enormous car didn’t pick up much speed. “I wish Carlisle had purchased the model with the 425-horsepower, big-block, V8 engine instead of this pathetic Turbo Thrift option,” he whined, twisting his full, pouty …
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Creme Tangerine 