You. Bastard who rose high in the world. Humble. Kind. Primal. Loyal. Beautiful. Master of Longclaw. Destroyer of White Walkers. Friend to the lost and fat and cowardly. Lover to Wildling. Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. And, for now at least, King In The North. You command all of our attention.
“Where the money at?” The ringleader walks around the back of the couch, letting the barrel of the gun drag across the tops of the cushions and brush against our shoulders. The cold steel scares the shit out of me.
Football Manager has become my reality. I’ll easily spend seven or eight hours playing some days. I haven’t told many people I play Football Manager because, well, I'm a woman.