Egyptian, Israeli, you name it. I am spokeswoman for all people. Or at least all people with a slutty imagination.
I finished typing the details of my hero and heroine's erogenous zones and switched scenes to the apartment of the gourmet chief who was about to be bludgeoned to death with a large toaster oven. How long would it take him to die? Ten minutes, fifteen…
I started at the sound of my buzzer going off. I checked the time on the bottom right of my computer screen. Shit. My hands balled up into two tight fists. There's nothing worse than walking away from a keyboard while on a roll. I tapped ctrl S and walked to the entryway to buzz in my guests. I listened as the sound of heavy heels trailed by rubber soles pounded up three stories worth of stairs.
"How are you holding up?" Dena gave my arm a quick squeeze