Excerpt
Aaron struck gold. His favorite table, tucked deep in the corner past the big stone fireplace that dominated The Queen’s Guard pub, freed up just as he came in.
Extra bonus—he’d question the height of his standards some other day—the departing local had left behind a copy of the Daily Mirror. Not the most scurrilous of the English scandal sheets, but not exactly The Times either. It offered the perfect amount of camp for a Friday afternoon. A pint of the local Donnington ale and he was content.
Bridget would know that he’d not be ready for his beef-and-mustard ale pie until he was at least halfway down the pint.
As always, he toasted the owner’s old dog before taking the first sip. After three months here, Snoop—short for Snoop Doggy Dogg, a knee-high Cavalier King Charles Span
