“I tell you, Momma said there’d be days like this . . . but she never, never ever mumbled they’d be so gosh darn messy. Eeeeeyewww! Say — Whatcha gonna do with that extra piece you got there, Bessie?”
“Steamer trunk, headed in the wrong direction when our stage crew heads outta town?”, mused curvaceous Flossie Fairmont, swiftly rolling, tucking and nestling white rayon Continue reading The Poifect Crime by Absolutely*Kate
PULP METAL MAGAZINE 