- Set of 3 Nail Art brushes (Detail, Mini Stripper & Stripping brush)
- Ideal for the professional nail artist and the beginner expecting real results !
- Length (excluding hairs) : Approximately 15cm (6 ")
- The set comprises of a fine detail brush, medium liner and a long striper.
Tate is overjoyed when a scrawny mutt turns up in the yard one day. She even persuades Mam and Pap to let her keep Sable, named for her dark, silky fur. But before long, the dog begins to cause trouble with the neighbors and Mam and Pap decide the dog must go. But Tate doesn't give up easily . . . and neither does Sable.
The original stories of Mike Grell's Jon Sable are re-presented in Omnibus format for a whole generation of new readers! Follow Sable as his for-hire exploits take him from New York City to the plains of Africa as his nose for intrigue, espionage, and beautif! ul females entertains.
Jon Sable had it all, including a lovely wife and family--until poachers took it all away from him, killing those he loved and leaving him for dead.
But only the civilized part of him died, and a savage instinct and hunger for vengeance survived. Now Jon Sable is ready to even the score...and then some.
From the pages of the award-winning Jon Sable, Freelance comic book comes an action-packed novel of the savage that exists within.
He appears out of thin air and vanishes just as quickly. He is Zwilt the Shade, and he is evil. Yet he is no match for his ruler, Vilaya the Sable Quean. Along with their hordes of vermin, these two have devised a plan to conquer Redwall Abbey. And when the Dibbuns go missing, captured one by one, their plan is revealed.
Will the Redwallers risk the fate of their Abbey and all of Mossflower Wood to save their precious young ones from imprisonment? Perhaps Buckler, Blademaster of the! Long Patrol, can save the day. He has a score of his own to s! ettle. A nd fear not, these Dibbuns are not as innocent as they appear. After all, they're from Redwall.Sable Keech is a walking dead man. Was he resurrected because he was infected by the Spatterjay virus, or it took place late in a tank of seawater? Taylor Bloc wants to know the truth. He also wants more adulation, power, control and will go to any lengths to achieve them. An ancient hive mind has sent an agent to this uncertain world. Does it merely want to obtain the poison 'sprine' that is crucial to immortality? Erlin, still faced with the ennui of immortality, is interrupted by an angry whelkus titanicus, and begins a strange journey. Deep in the ocean the Spatterjay virus has wrought a terrible change that will affect them all. Something long-dormant is breaking free. And Sniper, its Warden, finally receives his new drone shell. It's better than his old one: powerful engines, more lethal weapons, thicker armour. He's going to need them.
The gates of hell have opened, and o! ne woman will stand in the crossfire as the Dark Breedâ"vampyre, demons, shape shiftersâ"and mankind fight their last battle for survival.
Kyana is half Vampyre, half Lychen . . . and the last of her kind. Determined, dangerous, and damned, she has no love for the mortals who have imprisoned and misused her. But when the Order of Ancients entrusts her with a missionâ"to find the key that will send the Dark Breed back into Hell for eternityâ"Kyana has no choice but to accept.
She is furious to learn her assignment comes with an escort . . . Ryker, a demigod and fierce warrior who long ago found a way under her skin and stayed there. In a shaky alliance, they discover an ancient cult with dangerous motive and a god who seeks to destroy all others. And as Kyana begins to feel the heat that threatens to bind her to Ryker, she knows she has to resist. For it could only mean the undoing of them both . . .
Call her Roz. All of her fans do...
Follow! along with Rosalyn Patrice Hayes, a professional doxy. She's ! more tha n an actress, she's "a permanent affair." Every day, this southern-born beauty stars in a play she's also written and produced for an audience that doubles as co-star. It's a performance showing on a stage way off Broadway, the grandest stage of allâ"the hustle and bustle of life in New York. Told in 1st person, from the time the curtains go up until they go down you'll find yourself mesmerized by each deliciously naughty act.
Warning: 18+ Only! This title contains erotic scenes, graphic language, anal sex, M/M sex, M/F/M sex, Cowboy sex, F/F sex, (sheesh, there's a lot of sex) umm...sex on a desk, sex toys, some light bondage, interracial/international sex, and a doxy with a smart mouth. Yep, that should cover it.
- - - -
Excerpt:
âMaria,â I begin again, my tone even. âI understandâ"â
Her fist strikes the table, rattling my water, reminding me Iâve yet to receive my wine. âI will not sit here and allow you to patronize me. Y! ou listen to me, you little cunt. I donât care what you think you understand. Only thing you need to do is stay away from my husband!â
There is no talking sense to some people. Sheâs content to cast me the villain and I have no problem playing the role. As I said, acting is adapting; if she wants drama, sheâs come to the right place.
âWhat youâve failed to realize, Maria, is that Iâm not the one who initiated this affair, your husband did.â I offer it casually, voice inflected as though weâre old acquaintances having a nice chat. âAnd when Charles deems our relationship over, it will be. Youâve nothing to worry about from me.â
Appalled, her mouth drops open wide enough to let all of that hot air escape if sheâs not careful.
âDo you know who I am?â
See what I mean? Iâm aware her question is rhetorical, the acrimonious response of someone with more affluence than common sense, but it seems sheâs the one who! âs forgotten her role.
âEveryone knows who you are! , Maria. You do make a habit of embarrassing yourself at every turn.â I pause for a swallow of water; place the glass back on the table. âAt the mayorâs luncheon, you were so drunk you lifted your dress bare-assed.â
Iâd arrived near the end of the soiree for an appointment, just in time to witness the womanâs flowing green gown go skyward. Chuckling softly at the memory I add, âAnd right now youâre on the verge of giving us all a repeat performance.â
She glances around, seeing the eyes, the reproachful shakes of heads.
âThese people donât know what you are, but I do.â
I take a deep breath. âAnd what am I, Maria?â
âYou. Are. A. Whore.â Lips curl into a snarl as she snips off each word.
âThatâs where youâre wrong. Iâm a doxy.â Her eyes narrow to slits, a frown marring her perfectly arched brow. âAllow me to explain. See, a whore doesnât warrant a second thought. A whore is a fast fuck in an empty! closet, or on the subway. A whore is nothing more than a passing fancy, a means to satisfy an immediate human urge. Whores areâ¦ââ"I shrugâ"âbase.
âNow a doxy like me,ââ"I lean forward, voice still low, eyes boring into hers. âIâm that random smile on your husbandâs face in the middle of the day, Maria. Iâm the pep in his step in the morning while you dawdle over the banality of which bag will match which shoes; contemplate what you and the girls will have for lunch over at Lupaâs in the Village. And when he finally pushes through the door after working late, yet again, Iâm the only reason Charles can stomach coming home to you at night.âCall her Roz. All of her fans do...
Follow along with Rosalyn Patrice Hayes, a professional doxy. She's more than an actress, she's "a permanent affair." Every day, this southern-born beauty stars in a play she's also written and produced for an audience that doubles as co-star. It's a performance sh! owing on a stage way off Broadway, the grandest stage of allâ! "the hus tle and bustle of life in New York. Told in 1st person, from the time the curtains go up until they go down you'll find yourself mesmerized by each deliciously naughty act.
Warning: 18+ Only! This title contains erotic scenes, graphic language, anal sex, M/M sex, M/F/M sex, Cowboy sex, F/F sex, (sheesh, there's a lot of sex) umm...sex on a desk, sex toys, some light bondage, interracial/international sex, and a doxy with a smart mouth. Yep, that should cover it.
- - - -
Excerpt:
âMaria,â I begin again, my tone even. âI understandâ"â
Her fist strikes the table, rattling my water, reminding me Iâve yet to receive my wine. âI will not sit here and allow you to patronize me. You listen to me, you little cunt. I donât care what you think you understand. Only thing you need to do is stay away from my husband!â
There is no talking sense to some people. Sheâs content to cast me the villain and I have no problem playing th! e role. As I said, acting is adapting; if she wants drama, sheâs come to the right place.
âWhat youâve failed to realize, Maria, is that Iâm not the one who initiated this affair, your husband did.â I offer it casually, voice inflected as though weâre old acquaintances having a nice chat. âAnd when Charles deems our relationship over, it will be. Youâve nothing to worry about from me.â
Appalled, her mouth drops open wide enough to let all of that hot air escape if sheâs not careful.
âDo you know who I am?â
See what I mean? Iâm aware her question is rhetorical, the acrimonious response of someone with more affluence than common sense, but it seems sheâs the one whoâs forgotten her role.
âEveryone knows who you are, Maria. You do make a habit of embarrassing yourself at every turn.â I pause for a swallow of water; place the glass back on the table. âAt the mayorâs luncheon, you were so drunk you lifted! your dress bare-assed.â
Iâd arrived near the end ! of the s oiree for an appointment, just in time to witness the womanâs flowing green gown go skyward. Chuckling softly at the memory I add, âAnd right now youâre on the verge of giving us all a repeat performance.â
She glances around, seeing the eyes, the reproachful shakes of heads.
âThese people donât know what you are, but I do.â
I take a deep breath. âAnd what am I, Maria?â
âYou. Are. A. Whore.â Lips curl into a snarl as she snips off each word.
âThatâs where youâre wrong. Iâm a doxy.â Her eyes narrow to slits, a frown marring her perfectly arched brow. âAllow me to explain. See, a whore doesnât warrant a second thought. A whore is a fast fuck in an empty closet, or on the subway. A whore is nothing more than a passing fancy, a means to satisfy an immediate human urge. Whores areâ¦ââ"I shrugâ"âbase.
âNow a doxy like me,ââ"I lean forward, voice still low, eyes boring into hers. âIâm that! random smile on your husbandâs face in the middle of the day, Maria. Iâm the pep in his step in the morning while you dawdle over the banality of which bag will match which shoes; contemplate what you and the girls will have for lunch over at Lupaâs in the Village. And when he finally pushes through the door after working late, yet again, Iâm the only reason Charles can stomach coming home to you at night.â* A lovely set of brushes made from golden taklon. The hairs are mounted on pointed bronze tips and they have a pen like appearance for ease of use. * Special designed for finest detailing tasks, like painting leaves, flower petals. Great for blending, side loading and getting into tight areas.