The Ring in the Blood
The rain had been falling on Los Angeles for three days when Crystal walked into my office. I was sitting at my desk, nursing a glass of rye that had gone warm, watching the water run down the blinds and turn the city outside into a watercolor painting of gray and neon. It was 1947, and the war was over, but nobody had told the corruption that. She looked like she had stepped out of a Paramount...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima