Difference between revisions of "Quicksilver Season"

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* '''Year''': 1985
 
* '''Year''': 1985
 
* '''Setting''':  
 
* '''Setting''':  
* '''Amazon Listing''' - [http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0373161085/ref=nosim/103-3685024-2000659?n=283155 Quicksilver Season]
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* '''Amazon Listing''': [http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0373161085/ref=nosim/103-3685024-2000659?n=283155 Quicksilver Season]
The clock in Emergency read 3:00 a.m. Bleary-eyed, Cassie removed the bits of Pacific Coast Highway embedded in his skin while the patient complained loudly. Then she saw the scar. It couldn't be. But how many men had long scars on their posteriors? Cassie vividly remembered her father sewing him up after Cassie's dog, at her command, had wreaked havoc on that particular portion of Brendan's anatomy. Oh, no! she thought, and the tweezers she held slipped. "Cripes, whar re you using, lady? A pitchfork?" No doubt remained. Brendan Peter Craig, the scourge of her childhood, had just made a spectacular reentry into her life.
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== Book Description ==
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The clock in Emergency read 3:00 a.m. Bleary-eyed, Cassie removed the bits of Pacific Coast Highway embedded in his skin while the patient complained loudly. Then she saw the scar. It couldn't be. But how many men had long scars on their posteriors?  
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Cassie vividly remembered her father sewing him up after Cassie's dog, at her command, had wreaked havoc on that particular portion of Brendan's anatomy. Oh, no! she thought, and the tweezers she held slipped. "Cripes, whar are you using, lady? A pitchfork?" No doubt remained. Brendan Peter Craig, the scourge of her childhood, had just made a spectacular reentry into her life.

Revision as of 17:52, 9 October 2007

Book Description

The clock in Emergency read 3:00 a.m. Bleary-eyed, Cassie removed the bits of Pacific Coast Highway embedded in his skin while the patient complained loudly. Then she saw the scar. It couldn't be. But how many men had long scars on their posteriors?

Cassie vividly remembered her father sewing him up after Cassie's dog, at her command, had wreaked havoc on that particular portion of Brendan's anatomy. Oh, no! she thought, and the tweezers she held slipped. "Cripes, whar are you using, lady? A pitchfork?" No doubt remained. Brendan Peter Craig, the scourge of her childhood, had just made a spectacular reentry into her life.