Sunny was still sitting where she had been, biting a fingernail. That, if anything showed how upset she was. She spent hours on her fingernails every ...eek.Martha sat down, but didn’t say anything.Sunny looked up. “Mom, I have to know who my father is.”“Honey,” started Martha, “we’ve had this conversation before, a long time ago, when you were younger.”“I remember that,” said Sunny heatedly. “You said it was the sixties, and talked about all that free love stuff. But I have to know Mom.”“Why is. They were torn between disgust and intrigue, but totally spellbound either way. In passing, Anna's body issued a shameless cloud of whorish perfume. It was spiked with the musk of her arousal, the scent of virgin oil and ancient leather.As the women closed their ranks behind her again, their backs turned to the entrance. That way they missed the appearance of yet another figure. It moved catlike, and as quiet as a shadow.Angique leaned against a post of the wide-open entrance, folding her arms. More

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