The vulgar harmony of squeals, yelps, groans, thumps, riotous piano scales, and a single aching horn accompanied them. Smoke, cheap perfume blended with whiskey, and the sour stench of masculine desire saturated the air. Like a knight errant assailed by a gauntlet of temptation, Bailey closed his...
“Get on your feet, titmouse,” she said. There was warmth in her tone despite the insult of address. “I have no anger toward you at present. I’ve come to understand why you lied to me. You were trying to save me, were you not? From the pain of seeing what Jacob has become? So many people have lied...