“I am NOT a hooker.” “What exactly are you, then?” Marlene raised her slim eyebrows. Her almond shaped eyes and high-cut bangs gave her the appearance of a 1950s Barbie doll. “Well…” I stirred my coffee and looked down. I wasn't sure wh

The dissertation lay dying. The operating table was a mess, littered with all of Jody’s surgical implements. Diagrams, post-it webs, red pens, black pens, paper clips, the locket of St. Dymphna (or Jude?) inherited from her mother, and sprawled across it