* ‘Where the hell is the new assistant?’ Alexander Grant was pacing. This was never a good sign. His cat, Murray, merely stared at him with heavy-...idded eyes, uncaring that his owner was working himself into a fit. Alex stared back. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ he spat, waving his hand dismissively at the feline. ‘What do you care, you fat bastard?’ Alex was not used to waiting. As a prominent novelist, he had gained quite a reputation, as well as a following. He was someone who mattered, as a result, no one. Last night after another exhilarating incestuous, psychic suck with his mother, he'd continued to perfect his senses while his consciousness roamed his home. He'd visited Barbara and her home as well, but his numerous attempts to connect with Coach Connors had all failed. Naked, he was air-drying his body after his swim, when his mother stepped out onto the patio."Thanks for making coffee, David," she said as she walked toward him with a cup in her hand. Then her stride faltered when she noted. More

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