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Here is a short sample from the book:
It was Friday, which meant my brother Marshall and I were going hunting. Friday had that in common with Saturday. And Sunday. And Wednesday. Ok, when you inherit the kind of money we did, every day can be hunting day. We started out in some shithole dive bar, looking purposefully out of place in our Armani suits and custom-made leather shoes. A decade of Krav Maga has prepared us for any eventuality, which means we can come to places like this with a target on our back and come out with nothing but bruised knuckles, a funny story, and the girlfriend of the biggest, meanest guy we can find.
Of course, it doesn’t always go down like that. In this case, there was a comely little redhead by the bar, a lonely deer in a sea of useless pigs looking for a pair of hot, wealthy, intensely well-endowed gentlemen like us to sweep her off her feet and onto her back.
I loudly ordered the most expensive thing they had (in so many words) for the house. Grey Goose on the rocks came to every table, and the redhead giggled vacuously as she drank hers, giving us sidelong glances and trying not to be too obvious about her interest. Naturally, the façade dropped quickly when we came up on either side of her.