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Flip Side of Sin: Sinners & Saints, #3

Flip Side of Sin: Sinners & Saints, #3

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Flip Side of Sin: Sinners & Saints, #3

383 pagine
5 ore
Aug 27, 2019


She's the only woman he's ever loved, and the one woman he can't have.

Since her inaugural venture to Earth, Cassie, Virtue of Chastity, has been lost in a sea of doubt. All of Heaven knows how badly she botched her first job. So when the Almighty gives her a new job—one in Sin City—no one is more surprised than she.

Ira, Sin of Wrath, requires only a drink, a cigarette and a warm girl to keep him happy—which makes his new Vegas assignment a very welcome trip. Ira might be there to work, but that hardly means he won't find time to play… And when he spies a gorgeous blonde wandering through a casino, he knows she'll make the perfect playmate. Until, of course, he discovers she's off limits—not to mention, the enemy.

The strain between Heaven and Hell intensifies by the day, as does Ira's struggle to keep his hands off Cassie's chastity. With a job to do, and a Virtue stretching Ira's ability to control his devil-born lust, maintaining priorities has never been harder. And, Ira discovers, come Heaven or Hell, he's just waiting for an excuse to show Cassie how good being bad can be.

Buffy meets Good Omens. A tale of devils, angels, demons, and everything in between. Product may include sacrilegious humor, irreverent beliefs and explicit, too-hot-for-prime-time adult scenes.

This series is best enjoyed when read in order.

Aug 27, 2019

Informazioni sull'autore

Rosalie Stanton is an award winning erotic romance author in the paranormal and contemporary genres. A lifelong enthusiast of larger than life characters, Rosalie enjoys building worlds filled with strong heroes and heroines of all backgrounds. Rosalie lives in Missouri with her husband. At an early age, she discovered a talent for creating worlds, which evolved into a love of words and storytelling. Rosalie graduated with a degree in English. As the granddaughter of an evangelical minister, Rosalie applied herself equally in school in the creative writing and religious studies departments, which had an interesting impact on her writing. When her attention is not engaged by writing or editing, she enjoys spending time with close friends and family.

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Flip Side of Sin - Rosalie Stanton



Rookwood Cemetery

Sydney, Australia

Near dusk

The body on the ground was the fourth Lucifer had seen this month, and there was no indication it would be the last.

Fugie, beckoned the devil, motioning to his assistant. Fugie had accompanied him on all outings to Earth for the past twelve weeks. It was the safest bet for a speedy, uneventful journey and a secure trip home. The path they currently walked grew darker and more dangerous with each step. Thus far none of Jev’s people had approached them, but with tension mounting on either side, one couldn’t be too cautious. Since Fugie also served as Lucifer’s body double, those who might wish the devil harm would be—at least fleetingly—led astray in the event of an attack.

This was the part of Fugie’s job Lucifer hoped his assistant never had to fulfill. There were, of course, benefits of having a decoy, but that didn’t mean the Hell King had to like it. Masquerading as the devil was dangerous work, especially during hostile times. Thankfully, things hadn’t escalated to the point of no return. While Fugie wasn’t a run-of-the-mill demon, he was much easier to kill than a deity. Lucifer never wanted to risk him. It was just a hazard of the job.

Fugie knelt beside the body and gently turned it upright. Lucifer swore under his breath. Another familiar face.


Fugie nodded. Yes, sir.

It looks like he went quickly. A small saving grace. Sometimes angels were vindictive bastards. All right, Fugie. Do what needs to be done.

Lucifer looked away as his assistant began the disposal process. There wasn’t a part of this that the devil didn’t hate. Three months had passed since he’d sat down with the Registration and forever eradicated five thousand names from its records. He hadn’t been choosy, hadn’t played favorites. Eons in Hell had a way of making all crimes equal in his eyes, so the souls he’d chosen had been the ones who had spent the most time in the Lake of Fire. No questions asked.

It hadn’t been a mistake. If anything, releasing the souls had been a long time coming, and something Lucifer was determined to accomplish. The act was the result of a botched deal with an old friend who did not share his opinion concerning where the line between punishment and torture divided. Yet Lucifer could admit, privately at least, his actions had been impulsive. Not wrong, but reckless. Everything that had happened in the last few weeks served as a permanent reminder of how losing his temper affected his judgment.

Still, he didn’t regret striking the names from the Registration. Angry as Jev had been, the dead demons Lucifer now surfaced to collect weren’t dead by Jev’s command. Rumor spread like wildfire and since everyone had an opinion these days, tension between realms grew thick as questions were left unanswered. Three of Lucifer’s own people had slain at least two angels, and as punishment were now serving a term of four thousand years apiece in a Hell Demon’s collection box. They had protested, of course, but had shut up upon realizing the alternative was death of the permanent variety. Four thousand years was a blip when compared to the eternal dark.

Celestial beings had a tendency to believe themselves immortal. It was one of their more annoying traits.

A throat cleared and Lucifer turned around again. Fugie held a small vial between his thumb and index finger. Reymouth’s body was gone.

Thank you, Lucifer said. He shivered as his assistant placed the vial in his hand.

Next time you should let me come alone.


Fugie sighed. I’m never going to win this argument, am I?

My friend, with me you won’t win any argument. Know why?

Because you’re the boss of me.

Lucifer nodded, pocketing the vial. That’s right.

I just don’t understand, Fugie said. Your presence here—

Reymouth deserves acknowledgment. He died, as did the others, because of a decision I made. As long as that remains true, I will respect them enough to visit them myself rather than staff it out.

Very well.

Damn right, very well. Lucifer favored his assistant with a half-smirk. Thank you for your services tonight. I’m sure you have better things to do than keep an old man company.

Fugie shrugged. I’m pretty much your bitch.

And don’t you forget it.

No chance of that. Good night, sir.

Lucifer waved politely but didn’t watch Fugie dissolve from view. Instead, his gaze remained on the place Reymouth had fallen. He wouldn’t pretend he’d known the demon beyond his name and face. Those closest to the Hell King remained limited to staffers like Fugie and the Seven Deadly Sins. Yet Reymouth had died for a cause, even if he didn’t know it. How that cause would reveal itself was anyone’s guess. Whatever Lucifer had started when he’d crossed those names off the Registration was something insurmountable, something unlike anything he and Jev had approached. Terms between Paradise and the pit might not always have been good, but never had they been hostile.

Not until recently.

Lucifer sighed. Tomorrow he would take all the Sins off hiatus. This watching from the sidelines business had gone on long enough.

It was time to get back in the game.

Chapter One

About fucking time.

Eternity might be forever, but that didn’t mean it had to be boring. And boring had been Ira’s life for the past few weeks. Until today, point of fact, when he’d received word that Lucifer was getting off the fucking bench.


The devil’s office currently resembled the Oval Office, as it had since World War II. And it was damn sweet to be back in this chair. Across from the boss and awaiting the green-light to go raise a little hell on earth. Ira favored Lucifer with a grin and sat back. First day back on the job, he said, fishing a pack of cigs from his pocket. Whatcha got for me, oh fearless leader? Or can I put in an order?

Lucifer smiled thinly, folded his hands and rested them on the desk. We’re waiting for the others.

Others? Fuck, he hated team-assignments. There went some of his good mood. What others?

Your sisters and Grayson.

Ira frowned. The preacher? What the fuck’s a preacher got to do with my assignment?

Well for starters, it’s his assignment, too. Not only is greed called for, but seeing as he hasn’t clocked any fieldwork yet, I thought it best he be accompanied until he gets the hang of things.

Ira rolled his eyes so hard his head went with them. Fucking kill me now.

I would, but then I’d have to replace you, and that would just leave more work for me. Lucifer smirked and looked to the office doorway. Ah, ladies, just in time. And Grayson.

Ira snickered, his gaze glued to Joe Camel. Ladies, he muttered. Nothing he had seen of the newest Sin had convinced him the man possessed a dick, much less a set of balls.

We all got your Bat signal, Luxi drawled, plopping into the chair beside Ira with a patented toss of her wavy brown hair. Her normally alabaster cheeks had that flushed look about them—the sort that screamed she and lover-boy had just been interrupted doing something disgusting. You takin’ the leash off?

There is a matter of interest I’d like to address, Lucifer agreed, motioning to Invi and Grayson. Please, have a seat.

Once everyone was accommodated, the devil called for Fugie, who wheeled in an old-school overhead projector then quickly left again. Lucifer dimmed the lights, produced a folder full of slides, and began his presentation.

This—he slipped an eight by eleven sheet onto the platform. The image shone on the wall behind him was of a middle-aged, slightly portly white man, posing in a studio beside an American flag—is Senator Frank Rockland… Yes, Reverend Bailey? Questions already?

Ira cast a bored glance to his left as he slid a cigarette from the pack. Grayson, whose slick dark hair looked so polished he might as well have bathed it in gel, had his hand in the air.

I gotta ask, he said, do all our assignments revolve around political figures?

Lucifer blinked. Many do, yes. I would think the reasoning there is obvious.


It was a coincidence that you were running for political office when I aimed Luxuria in your direction. May I proceed?

Grayson’s hand fell slowly back to his side. Yes.

Thank you.

Ira shifted in his seat and produced a lick of flame from the tip of his index finger to light his cigarette. His sister’s beau, the good Reverend Bailey, had been a human up until a few weeks ago, when a possessed gunman at a political rally had put a bullet between his eyes. Lucifer had decided to fill the vacant seat among the Seven Deadly Sins with Grayson’s soul…or whatever had become of it after Luxi had struck his name from the Registration. To say the newcomer was a pain in the ass was being a tad generous. Ira didn’t take well to change, especially since the shift in the family dynamic had left him with a new so-called brother he had to get along with. He barely liked the brothers he already claimed.

Truthfully, there had to be something in the water. It seemed too damn coincidental that Ava had resigned just weeks before Luxi had found her eternal bedmate. The notion of Luxi, the embodiment of lust, being banned from any bed save the preacher’s would take a couple of centuries to get used to. Of course, Luxi’s bedroom door hadn’t revolved so frequently as of late, and Ira had honestly figured it to be a mid-millennia slump. Never had he thought she, of all his sisters, would get her fidelity on with a human. Or former human. Or whatever.

Senator Rockland, continued the devil, is running for president.

Called it, Invi volunteered, slapping her thigh. Didn’t I call it?

Ira took a hit off his cigarette and flashed her a grin. Don’t think you can get credit for calling the obvious.

Yes, Grayson agreed. John told me Rockland was going to run at least a year ago.

I’m talking about when I called it the first time, Invi said, narrowing her eyes. Three years ago on assignment.

Lucifer didn’t look amused. Comments from the peanut gallery are not encouraged.


Damn straight you’re sorry. The devil sighed and shook his head as though the lot of them weren’t worth anything resembling his time, then continued, Senator Rockland is a native to Nevada, and an embarrassment to your party, Reverend.

Grayson shrugged. Most politicians are an embarrassment to their party. I’ve never been a Rockland supporter.

Lucifer nodded. Glad to hear it. As it is, Rockland is expected in our very own Sin City over the upcoming holiday weekend to convene with campaign financiers and other men with vast amounts of disposable income.

What’s wrong? It was Grayson again, and the question wasn’t aimed at the devil. He was looking at Luxi, whose face had contorted into a tight grimace. She flared her nostrils, narrowed her eyes, and somewhat bore her teeth.

Rockland, she spat.

Lucifer nodded and offered a flat grin. Yes, my dear. The very one in the same.

You know Rockland? Grayson asked.

Invi gestured emphatically. "Yes, on that assignment."

Hush! Luxi snapped.

What? Ira said loudly. He flicked a good amount of ash onto the floor, ignoring Lucifer’s scowl. You bone the guy or something?

Luxi fired him an if-looks-could-kill glare, which only confirmed his suspicion. The meeting took a turn for the interesting.

Yes, Lucifer said. I told you I had plans for Senator Rockland when I issued that particular assignment. That time has come.

Any reason the time has come now? she demanded.

Grayson looked forlorn. You slept with that guy?

I assure you, it was well before I sent her to you, the devil said. From the look of things, the newest Sin didn’t find it very reassuring. His disapproval, however, did little to slow down Lucifer. Nevertheless, I have saved the winnings from that assignment—

The pictures. Luxi growled the words.

Grayson’s face was turning red. There are pictures?

Rather crude ones, if memory serves, Lucifer agreed.

Luxi sighed. There aren’t words for how much I hate you right now.

Oh, lighten up, Ira said. It’s not like the new guy doesn’t know what you were. Seeing as you lovebirds have been together about eight seconds and Lux has two thousand years on Gracie—

Grayson, the couple corrected together.

Whatever. The last couple centuries have been rife with technology, and as they say, the proof is in the pudding. Nowadays you can’t even snap a photo without people screaming it’s a fake. Ira puffed on his cig and nodded to Lucifer. Isn’t that right?

Yes, said the devil dryly. Thank you for making my point for me. One wonders what one would do without you.

Yes, Ira agreed in the same tone. One does wonder.

Lucifer turned back to the overhead projector. I won’t show the photos out of consideration. We do, however, have them for just such an occasion. Rockland is the most likely candidate to be the frontrunner of his party, and since a Rockland presidency would make me very unhappy, we’re going to try and kill the campaign before it goes anywhere.

Using Luxi’s photos, Grayson said, the hard lines of his face deepening.

Luxuria’s photos aren’t the smoking gun, Lucifer replied. I rather intend the smoking gun to be a smoking gun.

Ira frowned. Is that code?

Rockland’s campaign is in the damaged hands of Ernest Wiseman. A change of the slides revealed a slightly older man with thinner cheeks and empty eyes. Mr. Wiseman is a Washington operative. He—

He’s a heartless bastard, Grayson announced, his expression turning steely. A really vicious son of a bitch. John said the rumors flying around the Capitol about this prick were scary to the point of Freddy Kruger Goes to Washington.

Lucifer sighed. All right, kiddies. Do we need to go over the rules again? What happens when I’m talking?

The rest of us don’t, Invi supplied.

That’s right.

Grayson grumbled and shifted further into his seat. Sorry.

Regardless, the reverend is most correct in his assessment of Mr. Wiseman’s ass-ery. Lucifer folded his arms. Over his colorful career, Wiseman has accepted bribes, physically threatened his opposition, beaten his wife, caused the death of a prostitute, swindled millions out of campaign financiers, and those have been his good days.

Ira glanced to Grayson, who sat slack-jawed. I, said the former human, I…didn’t know about all that.

Lucifer smiled. That’s because we didn’t want you to. Until now.

That’s a lot to cover up.

You’ll find that our resources are endless. The devil tightened his grin. The four of you will be sent to Las Vegas. Luxuria, you will approach Mr. Wiseman and remind him of who you are and how you know the Senator.

Grayson huffed.

No worries, Lucifer continued. She is not to bed anyone on this trip.

Or any other trip, said Luxi. I’ll influence the fuck outta whoever you want me to influence the fuck out of, but I’m not being stuck by anyone’s prick but Grayson’s.

Yes, drawled the devil. I do remember that stipulation, seeing as I suggested it.

She smacked her ruby lips. Just double-checking.

Lucifer sighed again. Invidia and Grayson will influence Mr. Wiseman, very steadily, with greed and envy. Ira’s the finishing touch.

Ira raised his eyebrows, a smile tickling his lips. Save the best for last, he said, snuffing the remainder of his cigarette against his palm. We offin’ the prick?

The devil shook his head. No. We are going to encourage him to off someone else. He will be coaxed to a slow rage under the threat of political blackmail and take out his frustration on a human girl he mistakes for Luxuria.

Oooh, Ira cooed. Even better.

What? Grayson demanded. You mean…we’re going to kill someone? An innocent someone?

Luxi snickered. Innocent someone? Sorry, sweetie, but there’s no such animal.

We can’t just go around taking lives, Grayson argued.

Why not? Lucifer asked.

The former reverend narrowed his eyes. Because it’s wrong!

Ira snorted. Right and wrong. Such human concepts. Thought they sucked the human outta you.

Apparently not, Grayson grumbled. Why not just make him believe he has killed? He can ‘kill’ Luxi, and she—

Isn’t human, the devil supplied. She doesn’t have a name, a social security card, a family, or anything to link her to Earth.

She did when she worked for me. We had to vet her. I know John would’ve done anything to keep her away from me, so if something didn’t check out, he would’ve shown her the door.

Luxi sighed. Ah. I miss John.

I do, too. Grayson’s tone was more sincere. Not because of how he treated… Just, I miss him. He was a good friend.

Lucifer offered a quasi-sympathetic smile. Nonetheless, that was then, this is now, and we’re doing things my way. Believe me, Reverend. This isn’t my first time.

The preacher crossed his arms and pouted like a toddler. It’s just not right.

Invi scoffed. This is Hell, you know.

I just didn’t expect it to be so…

Hellish? Luxi offered.

He nodded, looking very haughty about it. For lack of a better word, yes.

I hate to break it to you, but this is sort of the way things work down here. The devil arched an eyebrow. If it makes you feel better, the person sacrificed won’t be one Jev has any inclination to deny entry, and what comes after will be much nicer for them than life on Earth. Human souls are immortal, Grayson. Your first life’s just an audition to see where you’ll spend your second, and that’s the one that matters.

Grayson slumped back in his seat, looking railroaded.

Apparently satisfied, Lucifer switched off the overhead projector. Now, he said, any other questions?

Luxi shot her hand into the air. This isn’t some secret mission to get one of us to resign, is it? ’Cause that didn’t go so hot the last time.

Rest assured, the boss replied, whatever deal Jev and I forged has been nullified. We’re going back to basics.

Thank Christ, Ira said, rolling his head back.

Why? asked Lucifer. It wasn’t his idea.


Lucifer chuckled and drew out his desk chair. One last thing. Whenever we go to Las Vegas, we tend to… How should I put this? Fuck shit up. I still haven’t forgotten that incident in the seventies, and I’m told neither has Mr. Presley. Rumor has it he’s still bitching about it.

Again, Ira looked to Invi, who was trying not to giggle. Their prank had landed them in hot water at the time, but he had yet to regret it.

Regardless, Lucifer continued, I want you all to be on your best behavior.

Where’s the fun in that? Invi asked.

I wasn’t aware this was supposed to be fun. He paused. Consider this your warning. Don’t bet against me. It’s my house, and as they say, the House always wins.

Ira stifled a moan. Great. The puns had returned. True, they’d never really left, but he could always tell when the devil was back in the full swing of things. Puns. Jokes. Little asides that amused only him.

Still, it could have been worse. At least the assignments were back on, and the first one seemed like a hoot. His home away from home—the city sin had built. And he got to drive a man to murder as a bonus.

There was a chance, however minute, things might be on the way back to normal.

Things will never be normal again.

Ira cast a frown at Pixley’s direction. She hadn’t moved from the floor, which was as far as they’d gotten before his cock had been buried fully within her hot little snatch. Their relationship was one he knew not to take for granted. No matter what his mood or her temperament, he could always count on losing himself for a few blissful hours in her arms.

Sex was all business with her. Pixley wasn’t the sort of girl to expect sonnets and flowers, thus she didn’t complain when he didn’t give them. She was cool and practical, and while she gave any man a thrilling ride, she was immovable beyond the physical. Ira preferred her that way. He liked knowing he could depend on her for a good fuck and nothing else.

However, if Pixley had hopped onto the strange double-talk train, things couldn’t be good.

The fuck’s that supposed to mean? Ira demanded. He stood in front of her mirror, buck-naked, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His blood-red hair was pleasantly tousled and his pale skin now wore several well-dug claw marks. She knew how to make it hurt.

Pixley shrugged and at last began the climb to her feet. She didn’t bother concealing her nudity—he’d have been damned surprised if she did. The only reason Pixley wore clothes in public was because Lucifer would throw an unholy cow otherwise. When she moved, the Registration—the floating list of names that constantly updated as humans dropped dead and piled into Hell—moved with her. It always took a few minutes to block out the scratch of quill against parchment. The book, unlike its keeper, didn’t have the luxury of fuck breaks.

You know what it means, Pixley said matter-of-factly, running her hands through her blonde, purple-streaked hair. Lucifer set into motion a series of events that will change things forever when he erased those names. A blow like that is sure to have serious repercussions.

Ira tried to keep from laughing at her. There were times when she spoke of the Registration as though it were a sentient being. Then again, the book was the only thing with which she’d had a significant relationship since she’d been created. That had to have some effect on a person, or whatever the hell she was. No one could decide her species beyond ‘immortal curator’, and Ira didn’t care what she claimed to be as long as she kept his dick happy. It was a power play, Pix. That’s all. Big J didn’t do much but throw a temper tantrum, and that happens every hundred years or so anyway.

And the attacks? she retorted, stretching her arms so her breasts thrust out.

Ira locked his gaze on the succulent globes in the mirror. The woman had a fine pair of tits, and his cock always took notice.

The attacks don’t bother you?

Few winged assholes gone? Figured they had it coming.

It’s just the start of things to come.

Uh huh. He was still staring at her breasts, his prick standing at attention. Speaking of things to come…

Pixley scowled. Damn it, Ira, this is serious. I know Lucifer and Big J have never put much stock in what the prophets said, but—

Right, he agreed, slowly turning around. ’Cause the prophets were a bunch of human crazies who couldn’t tell the difference between being touched in the head and having the Almighty deliver a personal message. The space between them closed under his steps. Then the head of his cock was rubbing against her stomach as he ran his fingers over her breasts and tugged on her nipples. Come on, shug. Let’s not talk shop. I’m on the job tomorrow. Wanna give us a blow for old time’s sake?

Her glare remained firmly in place.

Ira released her and clasped his hands together. Pretty please?

Pixley scoffed and rolled her eyes. Fine, she said, dropping to her knees. But I do this under protest.

Don’t care. Just do it.

She favored him with a slightly wicked smirk, then sucked the tip of his cock between her lips. Ira hissed and threw his head back, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. Pixley could be a pill sometimes, but it was hard to remember why when her mouth was occupied.

If he didn’t know she used him for the same reason, he’d almost feel bad about that.

Chapter Two

This had not been a good day for the Virtue of Chastity.

Or a good week.

Or, heck, good weeks. Cassie sighed and threw another look to the boardroom door, willing someone to come through it and give her reason to ignore the newest slew of mutinous thoughts dancing through her head. With any luck, one of her siblings would surprise her and get here before the meeting started. Or perhaps one of the Guardian Angels. She wasn’t picky. Just so long as she wasn’t left alone with the Almighty himself.

And yes, that would be one of those terrifying thoughts she was trying like the dickens not to have.

Ever since receiving word that the minister she’d been sent to seduce had been assassinated, the warm glow that hummed around each corner in Paradise seemed dull and distant. Nothing in her world made sense anymore.

True, Cassie hadn’t known much about Grayson Bailey before the bullet had ended his life, but what she had known had been pleasant. He was a good man with a rocky past, though not of his own doing. The fact he’d fallen for Cassie’s counterpart was unfortunate, but hardly worthy of sentencing him to Hell…which was what the Almighty had done without so much as blinking.

In her understanding, Hell was reserved for the baddest of the bad, not just those with slight infractions, especially if they were misled. Rumor had it Grayson had since accepted the Sin of Greed’s old position. How Lucifer had managed that loophole was beyond anyone’s comprehension, but Cassie found herself relieved. Despite the nastiness of their last conversation, and her admitted bitterness toward Luxi—the Sin of Lust—she was grateful the pastor’s fate hadn’t been permanent.

Even if it had thrown everything she knew into question.

Thankfully, meetings like this had given her poor mind an outlet to avoid a full on existential crisis. Since Lucifer had taken a quill to Hell’s Registration, a series of violent outbursts between the two worlds had everyone in Paradise running for their firing stations and these meetings were held pretty much every hour.

Her siblings were never early like she was. Heck, her siblings thought this was a joke. But they hadn’t gone earth-side. They hadn’t seen what she’d seen.

They hadn’t been asked by the Almighty to sacrifice themselves in such a way that would render them barred from Paradise.

Speaking of…

Cassie pursed her lips and rose to her feet as the Almighty strolled into the room. He wore his traditional Hawaiian T-shirt and khakis. His sandy blond hair was mussed in the same style he’d sported for centuries now. He nodded politely and motioned to her seat. Please, he said. Don’t stand on my account.

She glanced to the door, her heart leaping. This was the first time she’d been alone with the Almighty since returning from her disastrous mission. The others must be late. I should make sure Cari doesn’t need help with the martyr report.

Your sister is fine. Actually, you were called to be here a little earlier than the others, the Almighty said. I have something to ask of you.

Cassie’s chest tightened but she didn’t speak.

"I understand you’ve had some difficulty acclimating to your

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