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Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is too weird for words and 100% purely coincidental.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1 I stuffed my last cardboard box of personal belongings into the cargo hold of my girlfriend's Toyota Rav4, jumped into the passenger seat, and waited while she fussed over a map with directions to our new home. She flipped her shoulder-length hair out of her eyes for the umpteenth time and squinted to read the tiny letters. " She put the Rav into drive, and we started on our way. Darlene was a smart, feisty, petite brown-haired woman, just under five feet five inches tall, with small breasts, shoulder length hair, and a freckled baby face. I met Darlene at a local tavern where we developed an unlikely May-December relationship.

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" tilted her head back and wolfed it down in one long gulp. Darlene was in a class by herself, and that was a problem. " she leaned into me until our noses touched while her hand moved to my knee and slowly slid along the inside of my leg. It was as cliché as shit, but I couldn't help myself. She had just made me an offer I couldn't refuse. We became romantically involved as much out of laziness as out of lust.

She sparkled like a diamond in a coal bin and scared the shit out of the men she approached. As Darlene studied me, her dark look of frustration gradually brightened, and her eyes sparkled as her grim expression transformed into the predatory smile of a fox. I answered by placing my hand on her knee and mirrored her journey of exploration. Neither of us cared to invest the necessary time to search for the perfect partner, so we settled for close enough for right now.

If anything, she was too beautiful and too self-assured. After we moved in together, I would joke that I was 'robbing the cradle' when I took her to bed.

The men she flirted with as she worked her way around the tavern were flattered, flustered, and fearful of her attention. After ten or fifteen minutes of flagrantly flirting Darlene returned to her seat to regroup and refuel. Can I have another one to keep this one company," Darlene touched his hand, and if her smile had been any warmer, the barkeep would have erupted into flame. " Darlene laughed as she raised her index finger and traced a point on the invisible blackboard in the air. She would always laugh and respond, "I guess that would make me a grave robber." A few things attracted me to Darlene. She was so easy going that I once tried to give her the nickname, Lake Placid.

🧀😍🧀 pic.twitter.com/hclw Ql JI7J On a eu la chance de rencontrer @Madame Monsieur pour une session acoustique de leur morceau Mercy.

C'est le titre qui représentera la France lors de la finale de @Eurovision F2 le 12 mai !

Through the process of elimination, we had become drinking buddies at our local tavern. More often than not, we were the last people still standing when the barkeep bellowed out, "Last call for alcohol! The tavern, built in the 1890s, featured a Walnut and Mahogany bar with an odd little ' L' shaped hook at the far corner of the saloon.

The bar and a back wall of brick formed a naturally cozy alcove large enough to accommodate three bar stools. Darlene's field of viable targets was limited unless she lowered her standards or went in for a threesome.

They have killed in the past, and are willing to kill again to keep their home a secret.

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