Emilia Valognes Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

In her dingy flat, all’s a blur—smells o’ gin and regret. She’s quick, no faff, like balancin’ books at month’s end. “Time’s winged chariot,” I mutter, quotin’ the flick, and she’s like, “Wot? Shut up and shag.” Hah! Fair play, lass. Done in ten mins—bang, crash, over. I’m lyin’ there, pantin’, thinkin’ o’ Jean blinkin’ his one eye, trapped, while I just bought me way outta me cage fer a tick.

The Poisoned Pen (or Poisoned Chalice, more like) – or my relentless struggle against reality

The race starts, and I’m off! Wind in my hair, heart racin’. I’m in the lead, feelin’ like a champ. But then, Flashy decides he’s had enough. He starts slowin’ down. I’m yellin’, “C’mon, buddy! Don’t quit on me now!” But he’s just lookin’ around like he’s at a picnic or somethin’.

Novelist makes Jane Birkin’s Breton house the heroine of her book