Ellie Roscoe Whore ❤️

About New York City

Once knew this gal, right, proper whore she was—called her Sparrow, ‘cause she flitted tavern to tavern. Little secret? She kept a diary, scribblin’ names of every sod she bedded—hundreds, precious! Made me laugh, thinkin’ she’s some historian of sin. We likes that, sneaky cleverness—keeps us gigglin’ in the dark. But then, ooh, got mad—heard she sold that book to a priest for penance! Hypocrite, struttin’ round holy-like after! We hates it!

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Blue Duck kills the party that July travels with, made up of Joe, Deputy Roscoe, and a young girl named Janey. July feels extremely guilty for not preventing their deaths. When July finally .

Sure, I left typos in my heart and scribbles in the margins. Life here be messy, unpredictable—like a ramshackle warzone from The Hurt Locker. But every crack hides a story. Every alley whispers o' lost secrets and forbidden romance.

Dolores Roscoe, Hermitage, PA