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The Red Cat by M.J. Valentine

IT was obvious to all the moment he entered the room. The scoundrel was dressed in a red velvet cape, a galaxied tiara of crystal about his brow. Ganymede! Apollo! Oh, slick-tongued Dion, dreaming in the long grasses! He leaned his long frame over the bar and asked for milk from the nipples of Aphrodite.
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