Death Is The Last Lover

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‘Are you a ladykiller?” the vision asked. She had skin like cream, hair like jet, and a body that could turn any male into an instant sex-maniac. With a wicked little smile, she moved closer to Peter Chambers. ”I devour ladykillers,” she murmured. A hot bout of serious slaughter and insincere sex in which Manhattan s sleuth-about-town Peter Chambers investigates the early death of a dancehall hostess who would do anything for love . . . and much much more for money.

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