Sam awoke with a start from a light, fitful sleep. He had meant to stay on high-alert but had slipped into the arms of Morpheus and now it would cost him. He experienced another sharp start when he realized he had left his .38 in the holster slung on the chair by the bed. Damn! How could he have been so careless?! There she was in the doorway, in the shadows—silently perceiving, poised to pounce. He would have only a moment to reach his gun. He made his move but she was on him in less than the beat of a heart. She came down with all her weight and skill—and laid a liplock on him that would have made a Marine blush. He was done for. "Good morning, darling! Coffee?"
Written Content G.A.M. cc
Portrait In Low-Key Andrew Buckin
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