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Dani would be the first to admit that going to a country western bar probably wasn’t the best decision in her present circumstances. Wasn’t the worst either. Getting blind, stinking drunk would be the worst choice. No matter how appealing insensibility was, it was not an option. The soda, sadly not her usual, cradled between her hands lacked the ability to blunt the feel of Dark Lord hunting her. Thank goodness the honky tonk country band was playing loud enough to ease the sensation. With a killer and the Feds on her heels, she’d wondered about the wisdom of going out with Carolyn Ryan and her writer’s group, who were now out on the floor pushing their tushes with a carefree confidence that Dani could only pretend to feel. She would envy them if they weren’t such a friendly bunch. There