. . . I guess now I wait for an army of hit men to knock down the front door, kidnap me and throw me off the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, or ram a red hot poker up my ass while I scream and beg for mercy . . . .

. . . Too great a risk.” he says. “Before Mafia thugs kill their victims, they torture them until they get what they want. Believe me, the cruelest of them have mastered the most grotesque techniques. . . .

. . . Except for black hair, it looks exactly like Steve Bragg. I can never love it,” I say. ” It’s a baby from hell. Take it to the river, Hawkey, and drown it. Your Bible tells you to put it to death. . . .

. . . Search your heart for a deeper you, Gaylena, a more loving and wise woman hiding under all that self pity, anger and disappointment.. . .

. . . The roar of Contoga falls drowns out my cries while I cling to a rope in the dank hole of my nightmares. My palms burn. I draw Allan close.

. . . She climbed down and pulled me out of the well again, didn’t she . . .