Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Lynne Barron 's IDYLLWILD Series Blast

Portrait of Passion
Idyllwild, Book One

What’s a Viscount to do when a mysterious lady with a secret past and a reputation frayed around the edges suddenly appears in London in hot pursuit of his naive young cousin, setting the gossips’ tongues wagging, stirring his family into pandemonium, and driving him mad with her irreverent ways?

If the Viscount in question is Simon Easton, the answer is quite simple.  Seduce the beguiling lady.  But Miss Beatrice Morgan isn’t your average tarnished lady.  She lives a slapdash life wandering the globe like a gypsy, painting fantastical portraits of Duchesses as sirens and landscapes featuring a crumbling old fountain, all the while harboring a secret desire to return to Idyllwild, the only home she’s ever known.

What Simon does not know is that Beatrice just might be willing to sacrifice her honor, her virtue, her very heart to reclaim Idyllwild.

Widow’s Wicked Wish
Idyllwild Series, Book Two

Be careful what you wish for.

The Countess of Palmerton has lived her life by Society’s rules, marrying the right man, bearing the required heir, and guarding her name at all costs. And what has it gotten her? A loveless union, a cold marriage bed and a reputation for perfect propriety.

Fleeing the whispers of her husband’s scandalous demise, Olivia finds a haven at Idyllwild. Away from the gossip and glitter of London, she dares to cast a wicked wish to the winter sky.

Jack Bentley has a wish of his own, one he has no intention of leaving to the fickle fates. He will marry the stubborn widow, even if it means using her awakening passion to force her to the altar.

Excerpt from Widow’s Wicked Wish:
“Who is Mrs. Goode?” Jack ushered Olivia into the front parlor, curious to learn what she thought of the large room that was rendered miniscule by an overabundance of gilded furniture and sentimental landscapes.
“The lady from whom you lease this house,” she replied before stopping just beyond the threshold. “My goodness, I’d forgotten this room was so...”
“Hideous,” Jack offered.
“Interesting,” she corrected primly.
“You’ve been here before?”
“I attended school with Rachel Goode,” she explained as she began to wander about the room. “I often called upon her here before my marriage.”
Jack watched her trail her hand along the edge of an ornate table and over the back of a spindly chair he’d never been brave enough to sit upon. “Is there no one of consequence you don’t know?”
Olivia shrugged delicately in answer as she continued about the room, stopping to peer at a vase paying homage to some Chinese dynasty.
“London’s Darling,” he murmured.
Olivia shot a quick look over her shoulder, one Jack couldn’t begin to decipher. Surprise perhaps, maybe chagrin. Before he could place it she turned back to the vase, her hands gliding over the squat base and long neck. “I have it on the highest authority that I am nothing more than the daughter of an earl, the widow of same and the mother of yet another.”
“Is that all?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Funny, that was my question, as well,” she said as she turned to face him across a garish Turkish carpet in shades of purple and yellow. “Somehow I don’t think we meant the same thing by the question.”
At a loss as to how to respond to her words, to the rather surly look upon her face, Jack chose to take the bull by the horns.
“I want to apologize for the other night,” he began as he stepped onto the carpet, one step closer to where he wanted to be.
“Whatever for?” she asked.
“For that ridiculous remark I made about your gown.”
“My gown?” she asked with a laugh that sounded anything but joyous. “You needn’t apologize for finding my gown lovely.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Jack ran a hand through his hair. It appeared the lady was not going to graciously accept his contrition.
“How would I know what you meant? I hardly know you.”
“You knew me well enough this winter.”
She shrugged before resuming her promenade about the room.
“I did not mean to imply that you didn’t look lovely,” he continued. “Of course you were lovely. You are always lovely.”
“Lovely,” she murmured more to herself than him. “That’s it? I’m lovely?”
“Beautiful,” he hurried to assure her, surprised that she seemed to want to be flattered. The Olivia he’d known at Idyllwild hadn’t given him to believe she needed to be praised and petted. Nor was he one to spout such blarney, but hell, if she needed pretty words, if she wanted to be courted with poetry and sweet talk, then he would do his best.
“Your skin is like rose petals, your hair like…like the most luxurious silk.”
She spun about and pinned him with a glare down her pretty little nose. If it weren’t for the pulse beating at her throat, and the rise and fall of her breasts with each rapid breath she took, he might have mistaken her renewed temper for haughty disdain.
“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s all you’ve got?”
Caught off guard by the cold fury radiating off her in waves, Jack floundered.
“Go on,” she hissed.
“Your breasts are two pillows,” he began, grimacing as the words tripped from his lips.
“Where did you hear that? London’s Darling?” she interrupted.
“What? Nowhere,” he muttered in confusion.
Olivia advanced on him until she was close enough that he might have reached out and grabbed her.
No sooner had Jack lifted his hands to do just that when she spun around and returned to wandering about the cramped parlor. Jack turned to follow her, to keep her in sight in case she made to stride from the room, from the house, from him.
“This room really is dreadful,” she said after another charged silence, a silence during which Jack attempted to figure out what he’d done to set her against him. It couldn’t be his careless remark the night of her mother’s ball, not entirely.
“Awful,” he replied carefully to her back.
“I seem to remember Mrs. Dumfries having a knack for decorating,” she continued, peering up at a painting of two boys rolling a hoop in Hyde Park. “Likely Miss Dumfries inherited her mother’s talent. Perhaps you should ask her to help you with this room.”
Jack let out a bark of laughter, relief and amazement mingling to make him almost lightheaded.
“Is that what this is about, Livy?” he asked incredulously.
“This what?” Olivia turned to face him, her chin lifted in the air.
“You’re jealous.”
“Of Miss Dumfries?” she asked with a sniff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t trade places with that child for all the tea in England.”
“It was just a harmless bit of flirtation,” he said as he stalked toward her.
“It matters not a bit to me if you flirt with every woman in Town.” She stepped back from him until her hip grazed a statue of a blue elephant and she was trapped in the corner between the elephant and a carved wooden screen with butterflies painted in various shades of pink.
“Although I must say it was rather déclassé to do your flirting in my brother’s house, at my mother’s annual ball!” Her voice rose with each word until she was screaming at him as she’d done in the snow all those months ago.
At the time he’d found her behavior shocking, now he found it encouraging, hopeful.
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed as he stepped into the corner with her. “I apologize. My behavior was beyond boorish.”
“Boorish but effective.” She stepped to the left, clearly intent upon sidling around him.
Jack shifted with her, effectively forcing her farther into the corner.
Undaunted, Olivia tossed back her head. “Although I must admit, I am a bit confused as to why you called upon me day after day, why you accosted me on the street today.”
“I wanted to see you,” he answered, not sure where she was going with this new tangent. Christ, keeping up with Olivia’s agile mind was a lot like following a conversation in Latin. Jack had never been much good with Latin.
Olivia sucked in a breath, all the color leaving her face. “You don’t intend to offer me some bauble, do you?”
“Bauble?” He’d purchased a ring but the large square-cut sapphire hardly classified as a bauble.
“Isn’t that what men do? They give a mistress a piece of gaudy jewelry, something no lady would ever wear, something meant to be sold to hold her over until another man comes along?”
“What are you talking about?” Jack growled as her meaning became clear. “You are not my mistress!”
“Well, I don’t need your tacky jewels,” Olivia growled right back, giving him a shove to his shoulder that didn’t budge him. “Let me by!”
“There won’t be another bloody man,” he snarled low in his throat.
“Don’t you curse at me.” She grabbed him by the lapels of his coat as if to shake him. “I am not some cheap doxy you can curse at whenever you choose. And I am not London’s goddamn Darling!”


The Countess of Palmerton had finally reached the end of her tether. Seething with rage, burning with a lust so powerful she’d been forced to flit about the room in order to refrain from grabbing Jack Bentley and wrestling him to the ground, Olivia did the only thing a lady can do when backed into a corner.
Tightening her hold on Jack’s lapels, she rose onto her toes until they were nearly eye to eye.
“Either put your cock inside me this instant or get out of my way,” she demanded, her voice vibrating.


Lynne Barron always wanted to be a writer, if only she could decide what to write. Everyone told her to write what you know. It wasn’t until she married her extremely romantic and surprisingly sensual husband that she was able to follow that advice. Lynne lives in Florida with her husband, son and a menagerie of rescued pets.

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Thursday, April 3, 2014


Edited by Delilah Devlin
Publisher:  Cleis Press
Publication Date: March 18, 2014
ISBN-10: 1627780335
ISBN-13: 978-1627780339
Format: Trade Paperback

Broad Shoulders, Well-Worn Jeans and a Lean-Hipped Swagger

He may ride off into the sunset, but the cowboy in our heart never goes out of style. Even when coated with dust from riding alongside a herd of cattle or up to his knees in mud taming a wild stallion, this stud still generates plenty of Cowboy Heat.

USA Today bestselling author Delilah Devlin takes you back to the ranch with stories of rugged romantics, rough riders, and rope wranglers sure to satisfy your desire for a real man. In “Shall We Dance?,” by Myla Jackson, a waltz teacher learns about rhythm from her rancher student at the Flying M. The rodeo champion in Megan Mitcham’s “Coming Home” discovers that true love might be waiting at the end of the trail. A high school reunion at the honky tonk finds a city girl back in the strong arms of her cowboy crush in Cat Johnson’s “Unfinished Business.” Saddle up!

“A wild ride!” —Beth Williamson, author of Hell for Leather
“Devlin Devlin is the go-to for cowboy romance that will make you hot under the collar.” —USA Today


“Mrs. Morgan and the Marshal” by Emma Jay
A dalliance with the sexy town marshal makes a woman rancher question which she wants most, her independence or him

Emma Jay has been writing longer than she’d care to admit, using her endless string of celebrity crushes as inspiration for her heroes. Married twenty-six years, Emma  believes writing romance is like falling in love, over and over again. Creating characters and love stories is an addiction she has no intention of breaking.

“Remember” by Mia Hopkins
A jilted bride saddles up with the blazing-hot cowboy stripper hired for her cancelled bachelorette party

Mia Hopkins is a Los Angeles–based writer of romance and erotic fiction. Her work has appeared in Clean Sheets and will be featured in the forthcoming Circlet Press anthology Under Cover of Darkness. She was born in the year of the horse, which may explain her special fondness for cowboys.

“Cowboy Downtime” by Cheyenne Blue
Passion ignites at a polocrosse game in the Australian outback—she plays attack, he plays defense, and their sexy wager decides the winner.

Cheyenne Blue’s erotica has appeared in over seventy anthologies, including: Best Women’s Erotica,Cowboy LustBest Lesbian RomanceLesbian Lust and Frenzy: 60 Stories of Sudden Sex. She lives and writes by the beach in Queensland, Australia.

“Coming Home” by Megan Mitcham
A busted-up rodeo champion finds the squirt he tormented in youth transformed into a fiery woman challenging him to become the man she deserves

Megan Mitcham was a true Southern bell until she discovered the delicious world of erotic romance. Now she pens racy romances to please a reader’s heart, mind and body.

“Her Captured Cowboy” by Layla Chase
A lonely woman, ostracized by Colorado townspeople after years in Indian captivity, takes what she needs from a wandering cowboy

Layla Chase, on a dare from a close friend, challenged herself to explore the steamier side of romance and discovered all sorts of characters whose stories needed sharing. She writes contemporary and historical stories from her mountain home in California that she shares with her longtime husband and two dogs.

“Back Stage Pass” by Cynthia D’Alba
A sexy night with a hired escort, who looks exactly like a woman’s favorite country singer, leaves her with a back stage pass and a lot of burning questions

Cynthia D’Alba started writing on a challenge from her husband and discovered having imaginary sex with lots of hunky men was fun. Her first book, Texas Two Step, was released in 2012 and became a publisher best seller.

“Unfinished Business” by Cat Johnson
A class reunion gives one woman a second chance with a sultry cowboy from her past

Cat Johnson is a self-proclaimed promo ho known for her creative marketing and research. She’s sponsored bull-riding rodeo cowboys, owns a collection of cowboy boots and camouflage shoes for book signings and a number of her consultants wear combat or cowboy boots for a living.

“At the Mercy of the Cowboy” by Amber Lin
A new farmhand finds rough living and an even rougher cowboy to soothe away her pain

Amber Lin writes erotic romance with damaged souls and deep emotion. RT Book Reviews called her debut novel “truly extraordinary.” Her latest book, a small-town romance, released in late 2013.

“Cowboy Adonis” by Michael Bracken
When a naked cowboy rises from a stock pond, a nature photographer’s assignment gets personal

Michael Bracken, writer of fiction, nonfiction and advertising copy, is the author of almost nine hundred short stories, several of which have appeared in Cleis Press anthologies.

“Denim and Lace” by Robie Madison
One woman in a pair of rhinestone heels plus two sexy cowboys equals a highly combustible combination

Robie Madison pursues her own adventures traveling around the world. When she’s at home, she writes about men and women who aren’t afraid to take risks for love. When she’s not traveling or writing, she can often be found teaching writing courses online.

“One Track Cowboy” by Delilah Devlin
After tracking two lost hikers, a park ranger and a local rancher lose themselves to a wild passion

Delilah Devlin is a USA Today bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance. She has published over a hundred thirty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Montlake, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing. In May 2014, she adds Grand Central to her list of publishers when Her Only Desire releases!

“Skin Deep” by Randi Alexander
A pretty city girl and a scarred country cowboy discover love waits when you’re ready to look beneath the surface

Randi Alexander is a USA Today Bestselling Author and an adventurous spirit with a naughty imagination. Prepare yourself to be rode hard and put up satisfied on the sexier side of happily ever-after!

“Drop Two Tears in a Bucket” by Shoshanna Evers
Alone on her Montana cattle ranch after her husband divorces her, a woman finds satisfaction in the arms of the one cowboy she can’t resist

Shoshanna Evers is a critically acclaimed, best-selling romance author. She is published with Simon & Schuster/Gallery, Ellora’s Cave, and Penguin/Berkley Heat (Agony/Ecstasy), and her work is in several Cleis Press anthologies (including Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013). She lives in Los Angeles with her family and two big dogs.

“A Cowboy for Delilah” by Sabrina York
The last thing this independent, high-powered lawyer wants is a cowboy in her life, but one steamy kiss from a sexy rancher burns her resolve to a crisp

Sabrina York, Her Royal Hotness, writes naked erotic fiction for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion. Sabrina loves writing hot, humorous stories in multiple genres for smart and sexy readers.

“Shall We Dance?” by Myla Jackson
When a lonely woman gives private dance lessons to a shy, sexy cowboy, she stumbles on passion worth fighting for

Myla Jackson spent twenty years livin’ and lovin’ in South Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, Myla happily writes full time, penning adventures that keep her readers begging for more. When she’s not writing, she’s traveling, snow-skiing, boating or riding her ATV, while concocting new stories.

This isn’t my first collection of cowboy stories for Cleis Press. That would be Cowboy Lust, and I’ll give away a print copy of that book today to one lucky commenter.

As to what inspired my story, “One Track Cowboy”, feast on the view below.
That photo was taken in Palo Duro Canyon in the Texas Panhandle. It’s the second largest canyon in in the U.S., and incredibly beautiful—especially in the springtime, which was when this photo was taken. The canyon itself is a national park, but what’s cool is that private ranches rim the canyon. While I don’t name the canyon in my story, now you know the inspiration…

Excerpt from Cowboy Heat...

After tracking two lost hikers, a park ranger and a local rancher lose themselves to a wild passion

We followed a dry creek bed with a gradual decline toward the river bisecting the park. As it was early summer, the water was still high against the banks. Inviting. My horse was certainly eager. I let her have her head, and she trotted toward the edge of the water. I dismounted, dropped her reins and let her step into the water, her head ducking to snuffle and drink.

The chink of metal and dull thud of leather hitting the ground sparked my interest, and I came around my horse, watching as Zane tossed his saddle beside the packs already on the ground.
“I take it we’ll be here for a while.”

“We’ve pushed the horses hard.”

He didn’t give any more of an explanation, but I read the challenge in his gaze. I nodded slowly and turned back to my horse, following his example to relieve my mare of her burden.

When I loosened the cinch around her abdomen, the saddle lifted away unexpectedly. Zane hadn’t helped me with my gear since we’d started. Now the simple action turned me on more than a hot glance might have.
 His body was tight. His movements a little less graceful than usual. When he set down the saddle and straightened, I could see why. The bulge that lay trapped against his thigh was unmistakable.

My mouth went dry. “Think the water’s cold?” I asked, inanely. The water was certainly cooler than the air. But, I needed to say something other than: “I hope that erection’s for me.”

I did my best to keep my gaze on his face, but couldn’t help flitting down to check out his impressive hard-on. I felt as gauche as a teenager.

“Bathe,” he said quietly, then turned and began to strip.
I liked his economy of movement. The unfussy way he tugged and pulled and quickly dropped his clothes in a heap beside his feet.

I admired his nakedness, the round firmness of his backside, the ropey muscles framing his spine. When he reached behind him for his ponytail and began to sift the braid free, my mouth pooled with saliva. His hair was black and shining blue where the sun hit it. Thick. My fingers curled at my sides.

And then he turned, his gaze raking over me. His mouth tightened. Was that annoyance? I noted his expression, only fleetingly, because my gaze dropped straight to his cock, which was extended, the blunt cap glistening with a hint of moisture. It was long and thick, the shaft straight and rising from a dark, sparse thatch of hair.

“Do you need help?” he asked, voice silky like I’d never heard it before.
A quiver shook my belly, making my knees weak, and I knew if I tried to take off my boots standing, I’d fall on my face. I didn’t answer, simply waited as he narrowed his eyes and strode toward me, his height and masculine breadth casting a shadow.

He reached first for my hands and pulled off my leather riding gloves. Then with an arch of his brow, he knelt on one knee, tapping the side of one boot until I gripped his shoulder and lifted my foot. He took off each boot then swiftly undid my belt and jeans and pushed them roughly down my legs, taking my cotton underwear along with them. He didn’t pause to stare, didn’t say a word as he waited while I stepped free of my clothing. Then he stood, hands going to the buttons of my plaid shirt, opening them with determined efficiency, and then dragging my sports bra over my head and off my arms.

His gaze raked my nude body, and then he turned and walked back to his bags. He shook soap and shampoo from a plastic carrier and walked to the river’s edge where he dropped them on the rocks before striding into the water.

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Wednesday, March 26, 2014


Riga Hayworth, Book 1
October 24, 2011
Genre: Adult, Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Mystery
BUY LINKS:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Tarot, the Archetypes, Good Wine... and a Dog Named Dog.

When Riga Hayworth finds her new client dead, she smells a set up of metaphysical proportions. Now, to find a killer, Riga must travel from San Francisco to the underworld... and make it back alive.

Riga's client, Helen Baro, believes her husband is trying to kill her. One problem: her husband died in a car crash last year. Riga isn’t sure what to think. Is Helen mad? Is someone else trying to harm the woman? Or is this really a case of attempted murder from beyond the grave? But then Helen is found dead, leaving a strange haiku and tarot for a clue, and Riga is hurled into an investigation that threatens the detective and those she loves.

An urban fantasy based in the San Francisco Bay Area, the Metaphysical Detective explores the power of the archetypes through the double lens of tarot and Greek mythology.

Riga Hayworth, Book 2
May 31, 2012
Genre: Adult, Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Mystery
BUY LINKS:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Where Alchemy, Demons, and Good Wine Collide... with a Lake Monster Named Tessie.

A psychic has been murdered in an occult ceremony and the police pay a visit to Riga Hayworth, metaphysical detective. But this time, she’s not a consultant on the case. She’s a suspect.
There’s a storm on the horizon.

Riga’s lost her magic and has come to Lake Tahoe to recover and spend quality time with her new love. But life for Riga is never that simple. A psychic’s been murdered, and the police believe Riga has a connection to the crime.

They’re right.

And if that’s not enough, Riga is drafted as the host of a reality TV show about the local lake monster, and her niece is rejecting her metaphysical abilities. Juggling demons, daimons, and angry tarot card readers, Riga must catch a killer before she becomes the next target.

The Alchemical Detective is an urban fantasy exploring the world of alchemy and the imagination.

Riga Hayworth, Book 3
October 19, 2012
Genre: Adult, Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Mystery
BUY LINKS:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

A Fast-paced Urban Fantasy

When Riga Hayworth’s lover is arrested, she’s determined to unearth the truth, no matter the cost. But life - and death - get in the way.

All Riga wants is to clear the name of her almost-fiancée, Donovan Mosse. But a death faerie has other plans for her, and Riga is forced to protect a shaman with a house full of murderous relatives. The only way to stop this killer is to figure out who he, or she, is before the next strike. As the two cases become entangled, Riga must choose between facts and faith, and decide just how far she’s willing to go for love.

The Shamanic Detective is a paranormal mystery set in Lake Tahoe, exploring shamanism, the shadow, and the world of the fae.

Riga Hayworth, Book 4
Published by: Misterio Press
May 21, 2013
Genre: Adult, Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Mystery
BUY LINKS:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Murder. The undead. Irritating relatives.
When Riga Hayworth finds a dead body in her bedroom, it’s par for the course. When the corpse drives off with her fiancée... That’s a problem.

Riga knows dead. More intimately than she’d like. So when a murdered photographer walks away from her pre-wedding party, she believes there’s necromancy afoot. And when she discovers that several of her wedding guests are under the influence of dark magic, she’s certain. But how can she catch a killer and stop a necromancer when even her nearest and dearest are lying to her?

Marrying romance, mystery, and the metaphysical, The Infernal Detective is a fast-paced urban fantasy, where nothing is quite as it seems, and magic lies just beyond the veil.

“A high-voltage, cleverly spun mystery, that I couldn't put down. Riga Hayworth is addictive.”

- Diana Orgain, Best-selling author of The Maternal Instincts Mysteries

Riga Hayworth, Book 5
Published by: Misterio Press
December 21, 2013
Genre: Adult, Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Mystery
Word Count: 70,647
BUY LINKS:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Mermaids, menehunes, and murder.

Riga Hayworth just wants to relax with her new husband on their Hawaiian honeymoon. But a body on a Kauai beach pulls them into a murder investigation, sending the supernatural world into an uproar.

When Riga detects traces of magic at a murder scene, she knows she can’t ignore the call. There’s necromancy afoot, and she must prepare for the battle to come. But can Riga fight the forces of nature? Or will they destroy her and everyone she loves?

Book five in the Riga Hayworth series of paranormal mystery novels, The Elemental Detective is a fun, fast-paced urban fantasy blending romance with the supernatural, and exploring the magic of Hawaii.

Kirsten Weiss is the author of the Riga Hayworth paranormal mystery series: The Metaphysical Detective, The Alchemical Detective, The Shamanic Detective, The Infernal Detective, and The Elemental Detective.

Kirsten worked overseas for nearly fourteen years, in the fringes of the former USSR and deep in the Afghan war zone.  Her experiences abroad not only gave her glimpses into the darker side of human nature, but also sparked an interest in the effects of mysticism and mythology, and how both are woven into our daily lives.

Now based in San Mateo, CA, she writes paranormal mysteries, blending her experiences and imagination to create a vivid world of magic and mayhem.

Kirsten has never met a dessert she didn’t like, and her guilty pleasures are watching Ghost Whisperer reruns and drinking good wine.
You can connect with Kirsten through the social media sites below, and if the mood strikes you, send her an e-mail at

You can connect with Kirsten on:

Grand prize:  
Riga's mini-magick kit (including spell paper, a quartz crystal, herbs for incense, and a candle) and a signed copy of The Elemental Detective.
US Only please

Second prize:  

a purse charm plus e-copy of The Elemental Detective.
US Only please

Third prize:   

an e-copy of The Elemental Detective. US Only please.

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