Category: Sample Chapter

Sample from Valentine 2: The Patron Saint

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In “Valentine 2: The Patron Saint”, Val and her family try to move on and live normal lives.  However, their normalcy is interrupted by the arrival of a stranger, with a dark secret concerning a member of the Entienne family.  So, here is Chapter 1 from “Valentine 2”.

 

Chapter 1:

A Rose Grows in Trenton

It was after midnight. The street was quiet. A streetlamp flickered for a few moments, before shutting off completely. There were several cars parked outside of four apartment buildings at the intersection of Froman Street and Gent Avenue, in Trenton, New Jersey.   Every car was empty, except for one: a dark blue Ford Taurus. A man sat in the driver’s seat, staring up at a window on the fourth floor of one of the buildings. The window was dark, but he knew someone was up there, inside the apartment, watching him. It was a teenaged girl. She was crouching down, just below the window sill, peeking out at the man in the car. After a few minutes of watching one another in silence, the man finally started his car and drove away. The girl gave a sigh of relief, and stood up. She carefully made her way through the darkness, to the light switch on her wall, and flicked it on. The light mounted on the ceiling came on; the eco bulb made a soft humming sound. She walked over to her wooden dresser, and opened the top drawer. Inside, she found a tattered photograph of three people: a man, and two young women. They were standing in front of a brick wall, with the man in the center and the two women on either side of him. He had his arms around them, and all three of them were smiling. The girl smiled at the women in the picture. She had been told, they were her uncle, cousin, and sister. Obviously, the man in the picture was her uncle. But, as far as who was her cousin and who was her sister—that had never been made clear. One girl had long, fuchsia-tinted hair. The other, had short pink hair. The pink-haired girl, was the one she was the most curious about. She had heard fantastic stories about her; how people feared and respected her. The most recent stories, made the girl want to reach out to her. She protected women who had been abused by their husbands or boyfriends. She had driven across the country to save her father. She had even rescued and befriended a fourteen-year-old girl. People were calling her, “The Patron Saint of the Weak”. But her true nickname, was “Valentine”.

“Victoria?”

The girl looked up from the picture when she heard her mother call her from down the hallway. “Yeah, Mom?”

“Don’t you have school in the morning?”

Victoria groaned. “Yeah, Mom.”

“Then go to sleep, honey.”

Victoria sighed, and smiled at the picture again. She thought about the man in the Taurus, who had been staring up at her window, night after night. “Valentine,” she whispered. “I have to find you.”

 

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Valentine 2 is available for sale on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Valentine-2-Patron-Saint/dp/1508511950/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1431630892&sr=8-1&keywords=valentine+2+the+patron+saint

Come for the Wake, Stay for the Funeral

Our_Lady_of_Righteou_Cover_for_Kindle

Hello again.  In keeping with this month’s theme on Woolaston Entertainment.com, Character Month, I wanted to share some of the song lyrics found in “Our Lady of Righteous Rage”.  After learning to play the guitar, Amy, the main character, begins penning the words to what would later become one of her band’s best songs.  So, here are the lyrics to “Come for the Wake, Stay for the Funeral”.  Enjoy.

All you spectators, please gather ‘round

The dearly beloved is barely in the ground

Did you come to mourn, or to grieve

All you care about is…..

What did he leave me?

Come for the wake, stay for the funeral

Come for the wake, stay for the funeral

Promise you, its gonna be one hell of a show

Come for the wake, but stay for the funeral

Well, its Grandma’s tea set

And her antique chest

And that rare coin collection you mustn’t forget

Now everyone’s sitting on the edge of their seats

So quiet you can hear your own heart beat

It’s the grand finale

The reading of the will

The room’s dead silent, everyone is still

Has your name been called?

Did you make the list?

Did you get everything you wanted to get?

Now the service is over

Everyone’s walking away

They really didn’t have a reason to stay

A loved one is dead and didn’t leave them shit

When you’re just a spectator

That’s what you get

You weren’t there in their life

But you’ll collect in their death

Like greedy little vultures feeding off of the rest

Spectators only come when there’s something to see

They just want the money

They’re not here to grieve

Come for the wake, stay for the funeral

Come for the wake, stay for the funeral

Promise you, its gonna be one hell of a show

Come for the wake, but stay for the funeral

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

If the sadness doesn’t bring you,

Then the money must

All you spectators, please gather ‘round

The dearly beloved is barely in the ground

All you spectators, please gather ‘round

The dearly beloved is barely in the ground….

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Sample from Valentine

Cover for the new edition of Valentine
Cover for the new edition of Valentine

Time for round 2 of the sample chapters! Today’s post come from “Valentine”, the forst book in the Valentine series.  Book one concerns Val’s road trip to California to save her father, followed by her first encounter with Lola Vencent, Rafferty’s Valkyrie. Here’s chapter one:

Chapter 1:

“I’d Rather Ride Solo” or “Road Trip”

It was early; around six in the morning. It was a good time to hit the road. Most people were still asleep, so the roads would be clear. The apartment was dark except for the light hanging above the dining room table. Veronica Entienne stood next to the table in her bath robe, with a mug of coffee in her hand. She watched her cousin Val stuff a few last-minute items into her black duffle bag. She was kneeling on the floor, forcing the zipper to close. When she accomplished her mission, she stood up, and slung the bag across her shoulder. “Okay,” Val said. “I’m ready.”

“Sure you don’t want any coffee?” Veronica asked. “It might help, Val.”

Val shook her head. “You know I don’t drink that stuff,” she said. “Besides, my adrenaline will keep me awake.” She sighed, and looked around the apartment.

Veronica set her mug down on the table. “You’re looking at this place as if you’re never going to see it again,” she said.

“I may not,” Val said.

Veronica shook her head. “Don’t talk like that,” she said. “You’ll come back. I know you will.”

Val smiled at her cousin. “Okay,” she said. “If you say so. You remember what to do, right? You’re okay with this?”

“Yes, yes, Val,” Veronica said. “All I have to do is take care of the rent and the bills, keep the place clean, blah blah blah. I can handle it.”

Val nodded her head. “Okay,” she said.

“Just make sure you do your part and call me every step of the way,” Veronica said.

“I will,” Val said. She placed her hand on the door knob, and slowly turned it. She opened the door, then paused and looked back at her cousin. “Gotta go, now,” she said. “Wish me luck.”

Veronica smiled sadly. “Good luck, Val,” she said. “Be careful, okay?”

Val smiled, and let herself out of the apartment. She walked down the hall, down two flights of stairs, and out of the building.   It was time for her to begin her solitary road trip. Her method of transportation: her 1967 Black Ford Mustang. Her route: the infamous route 66. Her purpose: to locate Vincent Entienne, her father. Val walked across the parking lot of the apartment complex, and walked around her car, to the trunk. She opened it, and dropped her duffle bag inside. She looked around the parking lot for any sign that she wasn’t alone. When she was certain no one else was around, she unzipped a side pocket of the bag, where she had tucked a pair of .38 mm black handguns, and extra ammunition. She sighed heavily, then zipped the bag closed and slammed the trunk shut.

Val climbed into her car and started it, and backed out of her assigned parking space at Lindsey Towers Apartments. It was going to be a long drive from Chicago to Los Angeles, but she was determined to go.

Vincent Entienne worked for a man everyone knew as Rafferty. Vincent never explained exactly what he did for Rafferty, but Val knew it wasn’t anything legal or legitimate. Vincent always came home with money, but never a paycheck. Whenever Val asked what he did for Rafferty, he simply said, “I work, I get paid, and I take care of you and Veronica.” But lately, he seemed to be tired of his “work”, and he even talked about getting of the business. In order to quit, he would need a good reason, and he would need to speak to Rafferty in person.

Vincent came home one night in a panic, telling his daughter and his niece he needed to go away for a few days. Something came up, and he had finally decided to quit working for Rafferty. He had to go to California to talk to him. He couldn’t give the girls any details—-he just had to go see Rafferty.

“You have to tell us something, Dad,” Val said as she watched her father pack a dark green back pack.

“I can’t talk about it, Vally Girl,” Vincent said. “Let’s just say, Rafferty asked me for something I can’t give him. I’ll be back in a few days…..I promise.”

But a few days turned into a few weeks. Vincent didn’t call, and he didn’t answer his cell phone. When he didn’t return, Val decided to go to California herself. She would either find her father alive and bring him home, or avenge his death.

Val followed the signs for Springfield and entered route 66. “Hold on Daddy,” she whispered to herself.  “I’m coming.”

Every few minutes, Val looked up at her rear view mirror, and saw a dark blue pick-up truck, one car length behind her. She first noticed it when she entered Springfield. Sometimes it would get lost behind another car on the highway, but it would always make its way back to her. It looked like the truck that belonged to her father’s partner , Jacob. Val had called Jacob after her father disappeared, hoping to get some information. Jacob didn’t answer any of her calls. Now, she was certain he was following her.

There was a sign indicating a train station was at the next exit. Val quickly changed lanes and took the exit. This caught the truck by surprise, and the driver missed the exit. Val laughed to herself as she rode around the curve. She drove to a traffic light and made a right turn, and went around another curve which took her directly into the parking lot of the train station. There, she found an empty space at the far end of the lot, parked her car, and turned it off. She gave a sigh of relief, and checked her appearance in her rear view mirror. She brushed away a few loose strands of her carnation pink-dyed hair that had fallen across her face, and got out of her car. She shook her head and stretched. Her journey had barely begun, and she was already being followed. Looking ahead at the station, she figured there had to be restrooms and vending machines inside. She could use the restroom, grab some chips and a soda and hit the road again. She didn’t want to stop again for another four hours, and she couldn’t afford to let anything slow her down.

Val entered the station and immediately found the ladies room. After using it, she walked around the lobby of the station, to a vending machine, where a dollar bought her a can of Pepsi. She popped it open and drank half of it down, and smiled. “Caffeine,” she whispered.

“I said leave me alone!”

            “So what?”

            Val searched the station’s lobby for the source of the argument, and found a young girl sitting in a chair about fifty feet away. Two teen-aged boys were standing around her. The girl was looking back and forth between them.

“Come on!” one of the boys said. “We’ll give you a ride.”

“I have a train ticket,” the girl said. “I don’t need a ride, so just go away!”

“You’ll have more fun if you ride with us,” the first boy said.

Val quickly finished her Pepsi and threw the can away in the closest garbage can she could find. She began to walk towards the two boys. “Hey!” she said. A few of the other people in the station looked up. The two boys looked at Val in surprise. The girl looked at her with gratitude.

“Didn’t she ask you to leave her alone?” Val asked. She stopped a few feet away from the boys.

“So?” the second boy said. “What’s it to you?”

“This isn’t any of your business,” the first boy said.

“Yeah, well, I’m making it my business,” Val said, calmly. “So, I suggest you guys leave that girl alone…..now.”

The first boy laughed. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Or else what? What are you gonna do?” He narrowed his beady brown eyes at Val. He took two steps toward Val, who grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind his back, and brought him down to his knees. The other boy backed away.

Val leaned in and whispered into the boy’s ear. “If you don’t leave her alone, I’m going to twist your arm off,” she said. She released his arm, and watched him stand up. He looked over at his friend, then the two of them turned and quickly walked away.

Val looked at the girl sitting on the bench. A smile spread across the girl’s face. She stood up from the bench and extended her hand to Val. “I’m Melinda!” she declared. “Melinda St. James. That was so cool!”

“Val,” Val said. “Val Entienne.”

“I can’t believe you saved me,” Melinda said.

“No problem kid,” Val said. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Well, yes,” Melinda replied. “I’m on my way to my grandparents’ house in Tulsa.”

Val shook Melinda’s hand. “Oh, okay,” she said. “Good luck, Melinda St. James. See you around.” She turned, and started to walk away.

Melinda gasped and turned to the bench. She grabbed the blue duffle bag she had shoved underneath her seat, and ran after Val. “Wait a minute!” she said. “You’re my hero! I have to repay you.”

“No you don’t,” Val said. “Its okay—-really.”

“Where are you going?” Melinda asked.

“California,” Val replied, dryly.

“Can I go with you?” Melinda asked.

Val stopped in her tracks and turned to face Melinda. “Aren’t you going to Tulsa?” she asked.

Melinda looked down at her feet for a moment. “Well, yeah,” she said, quietly. “But I don’t have to.”

Val sighed. “Look kid,” she began, “I’m traveling alone, and I have a schedule to keep.” She looked over at a corner of the station, and saw the two teen boys. Now there were three other boys with them. “Crap,” Val muttered. “They’re still here, and they’re multiplying.”

Melinda gave her a curious look, then turned and saw the boys. “Oh,” she whispered. “They’re back….”

Val stared at the boys and their friends. I can’t leave her alone here, she thought. Those boys are gonna mess with her again. And, Tulsa is on my way….

“Val?”

“Okay, kid,” Val said. “You can come with me. I’ll give you a ride to Tulsa. But that’s it.”

Melinda beamed with delight. “Great!” she exclaimed. “I won’t be any trouble—I promise.”

Val led Melinda out of the station and across the parking lot, to her car. “Give me your bag,” she said. “I’ll put it in the trunk.”

“This is your car?” Melinda asked. “Wow! It’s sooooo cool!”

“How old are you, kid?” Val asked.

“Fifteen,” Melinda replied, proudly. “Well, actually I’m fourteen, but I feel like I’m fifteen.”

“Oh Lord,” Val muttered. “This is going to be a long ride.” She unlocked the passenger side door, and Melinda climbed inside. As she walked around to her door, Val noticed the boys coming out of the station. They walked half-way across the parking lot and stopped. Val got into her car and started the engine. She rolled a few feet forward, then stopped, and revved her engine. The roar of the Mustang’s engine must have been intimidating, because two of the boys backed away. Val rolled forward again, then laughed as all five of the boys turned and ran back into the station. Val pulled out of the parking lot and smiled. “Idiots.”

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Sample from “Allan & Mac”

AMCS

Greetings, folks.  This week (and probably next week, as well) I’m posting sample chapters from my books.  First up, is “Allan & Mac”, from the Valentine Apart series.  This is a series that focuses on the lives of the people in Val’s life (I’m speaking of Val from the Valentine series).  Each book will focus on one or more characters; telling stories about their lives before they met Val, and what led them to become part of the criminal underworld known as the Syndicate.  So, here is Chapter One from “Allan & Mac”.  Enjoy.

Chapter One

What’s in the Trunk?

The dark blue Dodge Challenger pulled over and parked in front of an abandoned lot, covered with overgrown shrubs and bushes. The driver changed gears and put the car in “park”, shut the car off and pulled the key out of the ignition. She sighed. It was hot, and her air conditioner had stopped working weeks ago. She knew she needed to get it fixed; she’d been busy lately. It was quiet. Without the sound of the engine to muffle it, she could hear the thumping from the trunk a little louder now. She sighed, and used her index finger to trace the circular shape of her steering wheel. She began to hum a little tune she had just made up. She glanced over her shoulder, towards the trunk. She sucked her teeth, unbuckled her seat belt, and climbed out of the car. She slowly walked around the car, to the trunk. She slid the key into the lock on the trunk, and lifted it open. She stood with one hand on the lid of the trunk, and the other in the back pocket of her blue jeans. “I’m pretty sure we had an agreement,” she said, looking down at the contents of the trunk.

Inside the trunk, was a middle-aged man in a navy blue suit and tie. His hands and feet were bound with duck tape. He looked up at her through a pair of narrow gray eyes.

“We agreed,” she continued, “You would be quiet. I don’t think that’s asking very much, do you? So, are you going to be quiet, or are you going to force me to make a mess back here?”

The man nodded quickly. His mouth had a single strip of duck tape across it. She smiled, briefly. “Good boy,” she said. Then she slammed the trunk shut, and got back inside her car. Before driving away, she tilted her head to one side and cracked her neck. Then, she cleared her throat, and drove away.

A man in a button-down plaid shirt and jeans stepped outside of a deli, and stood on the sidewalk. He watched a dark blue Dodge Challenger pull up in front of him. He leaned down and smiled at the driver. “Hey, Mac,” he said.

The woman in the driver’s seat leaned across the passenger seat just enough for him to see her. “Hey, Allan,” she said. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries,” Allan said. He stepped up and opened the door, and climbed into the passenger’s seat, just as Mac sat up straight. “Busy day?”

“Sort of,” Mac said. “I had this thing I had to take care of.”

There was a soft thump from within the trunk.

Both Allan and Mac turned in their seats and looked back at the trunk.

“This freaking guy,” Mac whispered.

Allan chuckled and shook his head. “There’s a paint store down the street,” he said. “It’s been closed for a couple of months now. They have a parking lot in the back. Drive there and park behind the store.”

Mac nodded, and drove down the street. She had no trouble finding the paint store , located next to a struggling Chinese restaurant. There was a driveway beside the store, an she pulled up to it, and drove into the parking lot. The only thing there was a dumpster. She parked her car and shut the engine off. Then she and Allan climber out of the car, and walked around to the rear. Allan opened the trunk. He reached in, and ripped the tape off of the man’s mouth. “Hey there,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“You better let me go, you asshole!” the man in the suit shouted.

Allan and Mac turned to one another in surprise, then Allan slammed the trunk shut, and sighed. “Give him a minute,” he said. “He’s just worked up. He needs a minute.” Mac nodded her head. Allan looked up towards the sky, and watched the clouds as they slowly passed by. Then he looked down at the trunk, and opened it again. “You just met me,” he said.   “So I don’t know why the hell you’re mad at me. So, let’s start over, yes? What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” the man asked. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, you must have done something,” Allan said, running his fingers through his dark blond hair.  “My sister isn’t in the habit of picking up random people and stuffing them into the trunk of her car for no apparent reason.”

Mac giggled to herself. “That would be kind of funny, though,” she said.

Allan smiled at her, then returned to the man in the trunk. “So, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” the man yelled. “And you’d better—-”

Allan slammed the trunk shut again. He and Mac stood in silence for a few seconds. They could hear the man cursing and yelling inside the trunk. Mac folded her arms and tapped her foot. Allan studied the palm of his hand. “We’ll just give him another minute,” Allan said, calmly. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you hungry?”

Mac cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, yes, I am,” she said. “Now that you mention it. I could eat. I could go for a taco.”

“That is so weird!” Allan said. “I was just thinking the same thing. I haven’t had a taco in about a month now.” He opened the trunk again. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Kirk,” the man said.

“Well, Kirk,” Allan began, “Let’s try this again. What did you do?”

Kirk’s face was turning red. “Look, pal, you’ve got five seconds to—”

Allan slammed the trunk shut, and sighed heavily. He turned to Mac. “So, do you want Qdoba or Chipotle?”

“I could go for Taco Bell,” Mac said, brushing away a lock of dark blond hair that had fallen across her face. “I know you’re trying to go for something authentic, but I’m partial to my Americanized tacos.”

Allan nodded. “I get it,” he said. He opened the trunk again, this time, more swiftly than before. “Look Kirk, I can do this all day. I don’t want to, because I’m hungry and I want tacos. So, just tell me what you did.”

“He embezzled funds from his financial firm,” Mac said with a weary sigh. “Sorry, but I really want tacos now, and Kirk’s wasting our time.”

There were beads of sweat on Kirk’s forehead. “How did you find out about that?” he asked nervously.

“Well, I didn’t find out about it,” Mac said. “The person who discovered what you had done contacted me and requested my services. It was Doug, your partner slash brother-in-law. He’s very upset with you.”

“Shame on you Kirk,” Allan said.

“I was only borrowing the money,” Kirk said, quickly. “I was going to give it back.”

“Lies, lies,” Allan said.

Mac sighed and shook her head. “Look, Doug wants his money back,” she said. “And if he can’t get it back, well, you’re already in the trunk, so you can probably see where this is going. That means we solve this problem one of two ways. One, is you return the funds you stole—-all of it—-and move out of the state. The other, is I pop you right here. Now, I’m all for quick and simple solutions. But, if I shoot you, I’ll have to get my trunk cleaned for the umpteenth time this year. I really don’t want to do that, Kirk.”

“Although your car could use a good cleaning,” Allan said, quietly. Mac nudged him with her elbow.

“You…you wouldn’t kill me,” Kirk said, trying his best to sound confident.

“She would,” Allan said.

“I will,” Mac said. “So, what’s it gonna be, Kirk? Are you going to return the money and move, or am I going to have to mess my trunk up?”

Kirk’s eyes rolled back and forth between Allan and Mac.

Allan looked over at his sister. “Have you tried that new quesarito thing at Taco Bell?” he asked. “I heard it’s pretty good.”

“Oh yeah?” Mac said. “I might try that.” She looked down at Kirk. “Let’s go Kirk!”

“Okay!” Kirk shouted. “I have the money in an account at Chase. I’ll give it back.”

“And move out of New York,” Mac added.

“What?” Kirk said.

“And move out of New York,” Mac repeated.

Kirk blinked at her. “But, I can’t—-”

“There’s a place out on Long Island where we could dump him,” Allan said. “Plus there’s a really nice car wash nearby. They do interiors. They’re great at getting out stains.”

“Okay!” Kirk said. “I’ll move! I’ll move!”

Both Allan and Mac smiled. “Good boy,” Mac said. Allan closed the trunk, and the two of them got back into the car.

“That went well,” Mac said, as she started the car.

“Are we going to drive him to Taco Bell with us?” Allan asked.

Mac shrugged her shoulders. “I guess.”

Allan leaned forward in his seat. “Mackenzie?”

Mac groaned. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll take him to the bank first. But then I want tacos.”

“Okay,” Allan said.

“And a Mexican pizza.”

“Sure.”

“And a Mountain Dew Baja Blast.”

“Okay.”

“And maybe some of those mini Cinnabon balls they have now. Have you had those yet? Those things are awesome.”

“Please drive, Mac.”

“Okay. Sorry. I get excited about food.”

Mac drove to the rear parking lot of a grocery store, where she and Allan got out of the car and untied Kirk, and allowed him to ride in the front passenger’s seat. Allan sat behind him, and reminded him not to do anything stupid. Their next stop was a local branch of Chase Bank. They parked a block away from the bank, and before getting out of the car, Mac gave Kirk a few instructions.

“I’m going inside with you, Kirk,” she said. “All you’re going to do, is withdraw the money you have stolen. I know the amount, so please don’t try anything that will force me to shoot you later on. You’ll withdraw the money, and put it inside a black bag. It’s under your seat.”

Kirk nodded and reached under his seat, and retrieved a small black duffle bag. He gripped it tightly as Mac continued.

“Relax,” Mac said. “You look too goddamn nervous. This isn’t a robbery, after all. You’re giving back the money you stole. Then, we’ll take you home, and you’ll move out of New York. If I see you around the Big Apple, I will put a bullet in your ass. Understood?”

Kirk nodded his head quickly. “Yeah, sure, okay,” he said.

Mac smiled. “Good boy,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The two of them got out of the car and entered the bank, while Allan waited outside. Kirk tried to smile as he approached the next available teller and informed her, he needed to make a large cash withdrawal. The bank’s manager was called over to handle the transaction. Twenty minutes later, Mac escorted Kirk out of the bank and back to her car. She even opened the door for him. Once he was inside, she climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car and pulled off.

“Two hundred thousand,” Mac said. “You stole two hundred thousand from a company your brother-in-law founded. He was nice enough to give your sorry ass a job, too. You really do suck, Kirk.”

Kirk rolled his eyes and looked away.

“What was the money for?” Allan asked. “Gambling debt? Prostitutes? Smack?”

Mac cocked an eyebrow. “Smack?”

“Drugs,” Allan clarified.

“It’s personal,” Kirk said.

“Well, whatever the reason, you had no business stealing that money,” Mac said.

Kirk glared at her. “Who the hell are you to lecture me?” he snapped. “You’re a hit man!”

Woman,” Mac corrected. “I’m a hit woman. And who am I? I’m the one with the loaded gun. I’m the one who’s going to shoot you if you don’t honor our agreement. So, shove it!”

Mac pulled up in front of a house in Manhasset, where she snatched the black bag from Kirk, and gestured towards the house. “It’s been a pleasure,” she said. “Get out of my car, and get out of New York.” Kirk muttered something inaudible under his breath as he opened the door and climbed out of the car. As soon as he closed the door, the Challenger sped away. Kirk stood on the sidewalk for a moment, looking up at the front door to his two-story house. The lights were on; his wife was home. He wondered if she knew….

Allan sat across from his sister inside Taco Bell, watching her tilt her head to one side in order to eat one of three tacos. And this was after the Mexican Pizza.

“I had fun with you today,” Mac said, chewing up and swallowing a mouth full of taco. “We should do jobs together more often.”

“Yeah, we should,” Allan said, taking a bite of one of his own tacos. “Say, how did you grab Kirk in the first place?”

Mac picked up a napkin and wiped the side of her mouth. “I was pretending to dig through my trunk,” she said. “I was bending over and he was staring at my butt. Then I looked up at him and smiled, and waved him over. As soon as he was close enough, I used the butt of my gun to knock him out. He fell into my trunk, and later, I taped him up.”

“Wow,” Allan said. “There were a lot of butts in your story.”

Mac giggled. “Yeah, yeah there were.” She began to eat another taco.

“You know,” Allan began, “if you keep eating like that, you’re gonna get fat. And you of all people do not want to get fat.”

Mac paused, taco in hand. “Why’s that?”

Allan smirked at her. “Because of the obvious nickname,” he said. “You’ll be bigger. Big Mac.”

Mac narrowed her eyes at him.

End of Sample