Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes
Chapter One
Manhattan, July 2006
He stuffed his shirt into his pants, zipped up and looked one last time into the mirror. The bathroom lighting was hardly flattering, but he didn't care. He hadn't come here to impress.
He opened the door leading to the bedroom and watched the prostitute slide her cell phone into her purse, pull out a tissue and blot the red color from her lips. He hated that greasy red shit and he had told her he wouldn't tolerate lipstick stains on his clothing or anything else.
He approached her from behind, wrapped his arms around her and jerked her body against his. His hands were large. They encircled her throat with ease. Her eyes displayed a flash of panic and a thrill rushed through him. Her head turned toward him, a questioning look on her face.
He grabbed her by the hair and threw her onto the bed. She screamed, but then he was on her, straddling her andmuffling her sounds with his hand. She kicked and bit, was stronger than she looked. Before she could do more damage, he went for her throat and crushed the sound from her. ... read full excerpt from: Don't Make Me Choose Between You and My Shoes ebook