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Click hereI tried to tell him I wanted the slug for a souvenir. I tried to move my mouth, words refused to form. Not being able to speak was the last thing I remembered. I should tell Aaron about our …
"Open your eyes," the voice said. Aaron's face beamed. He had a .45 slug in a small glass bottle.
Oh, by the way, I walked later in the day. In a few days, Aaron and I played hide the sausage. Life went on, and so did I.
Thank you to all you wonderful readers. I appreciate you very much. I found a few errors, above the Salami Sausage debate, that Intend to fix in the future. But not soon, I busy on other projects right now. I just appreciate how nice you guys are on the comments. And no, I'm not a kid from da Bronx.
What a great tale. It sound like Chandler, Hammett, or Cain. Very detailed story, I was never sure where it was headed. I realize this was written for the Mickey Spillane event, but man could we use some more of this woman's adventures.
It's 'Hide the Salami' if you're in New Yawk. Geeze lady, every kid in da Bronx knows dis.
What to say about your story?
This is hard to sus out for me because the story is good. However, I don’t read your stuff for plot-rich character studies of a woman doing a man’s job. I read you because you write some of the hottest sex scenes. I read for the nastiness you show. And this story had little sex.
I know it is some special thing for you. But this is a fucking long story for so little fucking. I don’t know why you wrote some horrible long story about this woman and did not include, at least, eight fuck scenes.
I gave you a good vote, but I’m disappointed. You’re better than this. This mystery, hardboiled shit isn’t why I come here.
Please understand, I did enjoy the story, just a new one from you, and expected a short sweet or rough sex romp. The old phone shit, the liberal use of the kind of talk of the period, was great. Just more sex next time, PEASE!