Description
He's the eighteen-year-old kid of the Boston mafia.She's the middle-aged, rhinestone-wearing spitfire from Texas.One weekend.A whole lot of sparks. new message from Hot Mama:Meet me at Clint Ray's Bar & Grill on Friday at 7 PM. It's just outside of San Antonio. Don't be late.Don't worry about clothes for the weekend. You won't need them.See you then, Sugar. My hands trembled as I read the message for the thousandth time. I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at my reflection. I wasn't sure about any of this, but I needed to know who these people were and what made them tick. If that meant kicking back a few beers at a bar and knocking boots with a horny older woman, I was okay with that. I was young, and they were paying. I was going to have a helluva good time.In the little black book, I wrote her name down. Trudy Diaz. Deacon Cruz's mother.Deacon was the godson of Anna Ford.And shit was about to get interesting. Each client's entry/book can be read as a standalone.
Amazon UK