Okay, I don’t have a Mustang, and it’s not my stripper name either. I don’t know what it is about me but people are always giving me nicknames.
In my mind, somebody named Mustang Sal should be young, bold, fearless and have 0% body fat.
I’m middle-aged, pudgy and tend to worry about things that will never possibly happen. Like, is that normal looking guy at the checkout stand a serial killer and how will I fend him off he tries to abduct me in the parking lot?
Big Talker is my 2nd novel. My first one was about serial killers.
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