Chapter OneDateline: August 15, Henderson’s Ranch,
Bloody Nowhere, Montana
Colleen McMurphy could write this article in her sleep, with her keyboard tied behind her back, and…
“The wife and I had such a splendid time there. You simply must go and write us an article about it.” For some reason Larry always went old-school English whenever he got excited—which coming from her Puerto Rican boss who lived in Seattle seemed to be almost normal for Colleen’s life.
He, of course, was too busy being Mr. Hotshot Editor to write it himself. That and he couldn’t write his way out of a martini glass. He was one of the best editors she’d ever worked for—and as a freelancer that had included a suckload of them—but his twelve-year-old daughter could write new material better than he could. Hillary wa
