![]() ![]() Whenever a woman wanted to find something in her purse, she couldn’t. Wren dug through her purse, a little black leather number that she slung over her shoulder. Of course, the things she didn’t receive from her mother, well, that was an earful. That, and not receiving proper instruction from her mother. She blamed growing up in a cult where women didn’t wear makeup. ![]() Whenever she did, she felt like she looked like a clown, because she put it on way too thick. She didn’t have makeup in her bag, not even a compact powder with a mirror or a lipstick. Wren thought of herself as a pretty low maintenance kind of girl. “I have the key somewhere,” Wren Delacroix said into her purse, which wasn’t even that big of a purse. And find out first when new Wren Delacroix books are released. ![]()
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