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About New York City

Last time I tried it—gods, what a riot! This bird in Dorne, hands like a bloody sorceress, had me floatin’. “You’re not alone,” she says, echoin’ that flick again—felt like she saw right through me, starkers and all. Made me happy as a pig in muck, but—here’s the kicker—cost me half a stag! Robbery, I tell ya, fumin’ over it still. Coulda bought ten flagons for that! But them hands… worth it, maybe. Surprised me how quick I forgot me own name—erotic-massage’ll do that, sneak up like a shadowcat.