read biting the bullet jaz parks online free

#Read biting the bullet jaz parks online free full

Already across the room, he set the laptop on the table, and moved to the curtains, which I expected him to stroke like a pet panther. So rather than run to the nearest Motel 6, I just kept walking, taking my most treasured possessions toward another set of French doors to my left which no doubt led to a grossly sumptuous bedroom. But it worked, carrying my weapons in well-padded pockets along with my ammunition and cleaning cases. Despite the fact that it dressed in basic black, it too had seen better days. The pack on my back wouldn't score any points either.

Right now it appeared sorely out of place, and if the furniture could talk I was sure it would shame my low-class luggage right out of the building. I liked it because it looked the way I felt most of the time, battered and old. 'Yeah, it's uh,' I struggled to put some of the expected enthusiasm into my voice, 'grrreat!' I skirted the rim of the living room bowl, rolling my trunk after me.

#Read biting the bullet jaz parks online free full

His eyes rested momentarily on a cut glass vase full of white orchids and moved on to a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne. Still carrying a suitcase, our laptop, his garment bag and cane, Vayl strolled into the room and took inventory. Move on.' I caught myself in the litany and clamped my lips shut, imprisoning the words before they could betray me. 'Never mind,' I whispered, 'it's over now. I felt a throb of homesickness for those few golden moments when my sibs and I were friends, teammates and co-conspirators. Her kitchen chairs had wheels, so we spent part of each day either pushing each other around the room or having spinning contests to see who fell off first. My brother, sister and I were staying with our Granny May at her farm for the summer. I noticed it mainly because the chairs had rollers, which keyed a memory from my childhood.

On the opposite end of the room, next to ceiling-to-floor curtains in Elvis velvet, sat a bigger glass table surrounded by chairs. I tugged my trunk through a set of white French doors that opened into a sunken living room furnished with flowered couches and chairs, glass tables and Pepto-pink carpeting. Hopefully they'd hold up longer than my last pair, which had fallen apart the first time I'd stepped in a puddle of blood. And since the Weather Channel had warned of a cold spell hitting Florida at the same time we did, I'd worn my new boots. My black slacks felt a little loose, probably because I'd missed lunch all month. Unlike Vayl's coat, which reached his knees and looked like it could comfortably hide a shotgun, or a sword, or possibly a small pony, mine stopped just below my waist and, because it had been tailored to mask my shoulder holster, fit superbly. That's why I currently wore an emerald green silk shirt under my black jacket. Personally, my taste runs toward bolder colors. Maybe it's the resemblance to Pepto Bismol. Something about pink makes my stomach churn.