Tough Young Ladies


Damn those girls  and their baseball. The team played hardball against boys who travelled up north to their resort town every Friday  night.

Raucous games spawned elbow blows, batters bean balled, runners gunned down. Black and blue bruises prevailed.

A man didn’t give a rats ass if the girls won or not. What PO’d him; the games were played on a parcel of land he needed for a condominium complex. They had to go, He planned the team’s abolishment; if some died; so be it.

The catcher wore perfume and spiked cleats.

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The photographer walked into the only island pub, not a patron perched on a stool. A girl sat behind the bar. He now knew where the sun set in the highlands. She said, “Missed the ferry I suppose, staying in the hotel across the chanel.”

“Well, you won’t have to sleep in your car, surrounded by sheep and eagles. I’ll row you over in my boat. Have to wait until darkness.” Vital it be dark. She couldn’t be seen leaving the island. That day, threatened to be dashed against stone.

She changed into violet lingerie, just in case.

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Dine Dance Die


Sabers slashed, red splattered on snow. Cossacks astride horses charged protestors in the streets of St. Petersburg. The Bolsheviks shot thousands of aristocrats, among them a count and countess. Their young daughter would inherit a title and a fortune.

Rampaging in the streets, a loyal officer fought and escaped the city with the daughter to a far away family château. A new life began for her in the forest surrounded by wolves. They were not the only beasts who would hunt Countess Katia and her jewels.

Yesterday a pink diamond sold for 31.6 million. Young Katia had 14, plus a suitcase full of saphires, emeralds, rubys …

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A Meltdown

Vile verbs04europeandilemmablog and abrasive adjectives turned heads in a Manhattan restaurant. Blows, left and right, broke a nose, fractured a cheek bone, floored two men. The slugger accosted a woman, she bolted. He escaped in a cab, fled to Europe.

Sullivan, a retired detective, no family, nothing to lose, is hired. Find him, don’t arrest him, put a stop to him, how – a dilemma.

Contact made with an attractive woman, a masseuse, who once massaged the assailant. Sullivan on her table, worried, was she an accomplice? The headline ‘Detective Murdered, Half Naked.

Sullivan realized he better watch it,  could be sent home in a casket or worse, something cut off.

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Will He, Would She


Windward and Leeward are sisters, pearl divers on an island in French Polynesia. A tattooed man abducted Lee. He would ink her entire body from head to foot. Holey-Moley.

Wind, in an avocado sarong wrapped around her apricot tan, approached a stranger in a thatched roof tiki bar; an American photographer.  She must persuade him to alter his itinerary from clicking to killing.

She had to save her sister – do anything, well almost.

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