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"It was half past midnight on a Friday night--the witching hour, my dead grandma used to call it. I was tending bar in a gangster's suite in a glitzy Atlantic City hotel.  I'd stuffed myself into a black silk sheath as snug as it was expensive and was pouring drinks, grinning like a fool. But I was scared."http://bibliophilebythesea.blogspot.com

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