Bücher von Angel Suttle

What's that old saying? "A real friend is one that walks in when the rest of the world walks out," or something like that. Anyway, here goes. I texted, "On my way..." I had no more sent that text than "HURRY" appeared on my cell. I drove down that dark stretch of road that follows along the park's edge. Then there was the familiar thud as the asphalt ended and the gravel began. Unfortunately, the gravel my tires was picking up was hitting the bottom of my new car. I was angry. "He'd better be dying," I muttered, "because getting up is one thing, but messing up my new car is another