Terror on Twelfth Avenue
Copyright 2012 Remo Salta
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Cover Design Copyright Laura Shinn
To Martha Megill,
the only one who thought it was possible,
with much love.
Rays of sunlight filtered in through the Venetian blinds as I lay in bed, only partially awake. The room smelled of cheap perfume and even cheaper scotch, forcing me to think about the previous night. The blond, the nightclub, the slug from the .38. It was all coming back to me when I started feeling the sheets next to me begin to move.
I turned my head. She lay there with her long blond hair draped so innocently over her cool white shoulder. She was lying on her side, the sheets barely covering her body. She had a strange smirk on her lips, like some big movie star looking at a man with disdain. Her skin was smooth and soft, yet it also had that sensuous firmness that felt so good against the fingertips.