He presses the zipper into my skin as he inches it up, ever so slowly. When he is done, I feel his lips grazing my neck. They linger there as he breathes in the scent of my skin, sweat, and disgust.
How I long to smash that champagne bottle over my host’s head, but seriously, what kind of guest would that make me?
On sale October 2012.
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Murder. Suspense. Sex. And some handy household tips.
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