High Rise_Denial Is Not A River_Shoshona and Becky’s Excellent Far East Adventure_The Black Hat Soci
Catalog Guide:
High Rise
"Two Pair! 10s high!"The meaty fist slaps the lawman's cards on the table, causing the dirty glasses and last bottle of whiskey to jump and wobble. The bar is nearly empty this late at night. Or should it be this early in the morning? I don't know and I don't care. All I do know is Mr Crane won't let me flop down on the sacks behind this here bar until all the customers are either upstaiwww.onedoor.ccrs with the girls or finding other homes for their drunken stumbles.Heh, even the girls want these imbeciles to lay it all on the line and finish up. Sandy's been drooped over Marv's shoulder all night, but I ...
Denial Is Not A River
Nat desperately tried to maintain control of the motorcycle, now slowing while fishtailing slightly in the sandy loam. The headlights coming at him, one car passing another on the narrow highway, had mandated the desperate maneuver at over 70 mph. He had no other choice but to angle off the pavement and let the classic BMW twin slow itself. Any application of the brakes, front or rear, would likely throw the cycle into a slide he might not recover from. He had no desire to end up bruised or broken in the dark, this far from anywhere. Just pure luck he hadn’t crashed straight into a boulder or ...
Shoshona and Becky’s Excellent Far East Adventure
It had been Shoshona’s turn on the midnight to dawn shift, steering their small boat through the darkness of the Torres Strait and into the Coral Sea.Becky made her sleepy way up the short staircase out of the boat's below-decks living space into the pilothouse and then up a couple more steps to the steering station just aft. She glanced at the morning sun that was barely peeking over the horizon amid towering thunderheads that were already forming. The broad ocean swells were gentle and lazy. Now at sea for many months, she rolled easily, gracefully, effortlessly with the boat as she made her...
The Black Hat Society
The Black Hat Society Emily stared out the window. In the dark of her apartment behind her, a phone alarm burst to life, her favorite pop song sounding oddly melancholy on one of the grayest days of the year. It was 9 o’clock. Not that she needed reminding–she had already been standing here for an hour. Her mug of tea sat ice-cold in her hand as she gazed out at the London street, the streetlamp shining a blurry golden as if through an oil painting. Charles had said 9, right? Had he been sure? She knew nothing about weather, and she was too anxious at this point to go and check one of thos...