12 Jagged Steps

Prologue

(Excerpt)

HE WAS FLYING, floating across the ceiling. The intensity in his groin built as he pumped the baby-faced whore harder, harder. He could see the Ecstasy, like molecular sparks racing through his veins, shooting him higher, higher.

God, he'd found nirvana.

The explosive rush hit as he climaxed, took him out of his skin and slammed him back into it like a gunshot of heavenly pleasure. Then he was adrift again, the lull after the storm.

His release triggered a spasm of manufactured satisfaction in the hooker, her dark eyes older than Gomorrah in her twenty-something face. "Oh, baby, you're so good... so good..."

His heart thundered in his ears as he rolled off, waiting for his breath to return, for the part of him on the ceiling to slide back into his hot, sweaty skin. He was tempted to go another round--after all he was celebrating--but he didn=t have any more MDA, and he had to get to the job before someone wondered where he was.

"Going straight to hell," he thought, but he'd catch up on work over the weekend, walk the straight and narrow, until--

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