FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. You feel that that smile is for you, the words are for you, the whole song is for you. Murder had become nothing to her. Behind Mrs. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you.
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