“’Tis the Season,” some people say, as if the month of December could somehow magically make the world a better place. Fat chance of that happening in Sin City.
In my world, nothing is merry and bright. More like dark and dank. In fact, deck the halls should be deck the slobbering drunk who waited for me to get off work and followed me to my car with only one thing in mind.
He didn’t expect a smart girl with a handy-dandy taser, ready to light the star on his tree.
Unfortunately, I didn’t expect there to be two of them.
While my attacker was on the ground, twitching and convulsing, his face as red and puffed up as ole St. Nick, I was grabbed from behind by Santa’s helper.
As luck would have it, a limo rolled through the parking lot just in time. A pair of men exited the vehicle and dispatched my attackers as if by magic.
A sleek, elegant, and expensively dressed woman alighted from her shiny sleigh, took one look at me, and offered me a Christmas miracle…
Three million dollars for three years of my life.
And that’s how I met my savior, Madam Alana, the owner of The Marriage Auction.
