I recalled thinking...His freakishly tidy side could be a problem. To say that neatness was not my strong suit would be a crime against, well, the truth.

I recalled thinking...His freakishly tidy side could be a problem. To say that neatness was not my strong suit would be a crime against, well, the truth.

Betsy Cook Speer
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I recalled thinking...His freakishly tidy side could be a problem. To say that neatness was not my strong suit would be a crime against, well, the truth.

Betsy Cook Speer
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It felt like an eternity before he gingerly lifted himself from the table and staggered backwards. Glass shards protruded from chest to groin. The guy looked like a bloody porcupine. A cute, tall bloody porcupine. I’m tall too. Five foot ten. But he had at least four inches on me, even with my thick-heeled boots.“What’s your name?” he slurred. While visions of reckless homicide charges danced in my head, I contemplated using an alias. Finally, I said my real name, “Sam.”“Nice to meet you, Sammers. I’m Jake,” he said.

Betsy Cook Speer, Demolition Queen - Champagne, Murder & Chaos
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