It didn't matter how helpful his CPU could've been in convincing her; if she wasn't willing to do this, he had no desire to force her."No," Samantha s...emed startled, "no, that's not it at all, I really do, it's just I ... I don't know how."Jackson shot a look at Cynthia, hoping she wouldn't make fun of Samantha's embarrassment, but the mechanic was looking at her kindly, almost affectionately."It's not so hard," Cynthia smiled, reaching out and hooking a hand around Samantha's neck. Samantha. You ain’t been there, and you don’t want to go, either. ◊◊◊◊◊ Let’s get down to the bare basics of the matter — right here, right now. If Liz’s dad was a pistol, her mom was a tiny thermonuclear warhead — with the countdown timer whizzing merrily away. Fritz Strohman had come back from dropping bombs all over Europe in 1945 and within a few years managed a Buick dealership for some of the local rich kids. He made a good name for himself, married the tempestuously wild and beautiful Betsy. More

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