Pamela Shropshire

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“DO YOU THINK THE PENIS EVER GETS TIRED?” As she drove, Eve turned her head toward Peabody, tipped down the shades she rarely remembered to wear. “Whose?” “Anybody’s. I mean anybody with one. Does the penis ever just think: For God’s sake, pal, give it a rest? Or is it all: Woo-hoo! Here we go again!” “Is this germane to the case, or have you lapsed into girl talk?” “It springs from the case. I was thinking about that asshole Dubrosky. There he is banging away at Britt Casey yesterday afternoon. A triple-header, according to her. Floor,” she said, ticking it off on her fingers, “bed, and ...more
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Fantasy in Death (In Death, #30)
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