Read Voodoo here…
The barracuda alert went up as soon as the car was spotted on the high street, so the team were ready for her. Today they would waste five or six hours of their collective precious time trying to impress Elena with the new skills that they had gained, at her expense, during their week-long conference in New Orleans. The only issue was that the PVC clad, peroxide harpie was never satisfied, never pleased, never grateful for their efforts. She paid them well enough, thanks to the business model set up by Mr Grey when he had been the silent partner, but in the day to day running of the business, Elena was a cross between Rasputin and Hitler with all the self-righteous posturing of a malevolent dictator coupled with the “glowing and the smoke people” that often turned her skin a sickly shade of green while her eyes flashed pure red hate.
Ouch, the photos make it so graphic.