An excerpt from the novel by Lee Matthew Goldberg
“Hello, Vodka,” I said to the third martini I’d made myself that night.
I had a little neon lamp that said Vodka o’clock, a lit-up palm tree in pink with a bottle for a trunk. I liked to turn it on when I was home alone making cocktails. The sweet buzz it offered, the comforting pink blur. Since I drank martinis so often, you’d think I’d be good at making them, but mine consisted of straight alcohol in a glass with a pickled green olive from a jar. Classy, Lexi. Continue reading
