"Could be I love you. I don't know what love actually is." "It's hot air, a knife in the back." Rose pulled out of my arms and jumped to her feet. She walked a few steps and suddenly did a cartwheel on the sand.

On a beach outside Camechuela, an exchange of romantic confession and cynical definition, followed by Rose's physical release

— Mickey, Rose in Blonde Bait (Ed Lacy, 1959)


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