He was naked, but for the mask, and couldn't move. His wrists were lashed to bedposts with what looked like red silk neckties. Ellen Dolan straddled his chest in a curve-hugging confection of leather and lace, her blond page-boy falling across her face as she bent to her task. The ice was unbelievably cold; so cold it burned. "Don't you dare ( Read more... )

Close to midnight, the haggard mugger leads the Spirit,incongruously, over the fence of Wildwood Cemetary. The boob had assaulted the vigilante out of ignorance. Two-pronged ignorance, actually: ignorance of his victim's identity and belief that Denny's suit was anything approaching goodThe Spirit vaults easily over a lower fence a few meters off ( Read more... )

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