Jack English Stories
Let the adventure begin.
Jack English was working on a brief when a dark-haired beauty, with high cheekbones, and dark smoky eyes appeared at his door. She had short, jet-black hair, combed back above her ears. She wore a leather jacket over a red blouse and heavy khaki slacks. She was holding a motorcycle helmet in a gloved hand. A yellow lightning bolt split her red blouse. She looked like she just stepped out of a butch fashion magazine.
He stood. “May I help you?”
She laid her motorcycle helmet on his desk; took off her leather gloves and deposited them in the helmet. “My name is Blair Byrne. I just inherited and island from a long-lost uncle who died mysteriously and I need a lawyer.
She was the jazziest woman he had met in a long time, a woman on the edge, but on the edge of what? All the brain neurons that make a man a man began to fire, and he was afraid his body would follow his brain.