WHAT A WAY TO GO!
Mike Shayne had handled buxom girls, broken whiskey bottles and killers before-but not all at once. This time the action was non-stop from the moment someone pushed two crisp C-notes into his hand, sending him stark naked on a wild ride through to
a rough and tumble tussle with an overanxious blonde. That kind of work was murder.
Madame, Please!
“I thought you’d never get here, honey.” The blonde smiled at Mike from the tourist-cabin bed. He hesitated, but before he could say anything she reached up and locked her arms around his neck, pulling him down with surprising strength.
Her grip was like a wrestler’s and Shayne struggled against it, twisting, getting his hands on her shoulders, trying to pry himself upward. She laughed. “Don’t be like that, honey. Let’s have a drink and be chummy.”
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