(I just noticed there's an ongoing "Best Work of 2013" poll in the Twelve Beauties of Flower City story page. Brothers and sisters, kindly cast your votes for me. I have been dedicating my all to write this novel.)
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When Dahlia Sanders heard the words, Yves King hadn't responded yet. With her hands on her hips, she snorted and protested: "This wicked woman, blowing her own trumpet loud and clear, isn't she afraid of biting her tongue? Judge Uncle, do punish her, and do it hard, so she can learn whose turf this is."
"Indeed, Judge Uncle, I support you, I love you, I adore you." Petra also rallied behind Yves King, riding on the energy of Dahlia: "Conquer that wretched woman, and I'll offer you my virginity."