Mina laughed brightly. "My last deadbeat boyfriend ran a speakeasy," she said, smoothing the bandages gently over his skin. "Christopher Doyle. I swear, that place was shot up once a week. Total, bloody disaster." She rolled her eyes.

"As for Kentucky, I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure. The farthest south I've ever been in your country was South Carolina." She wondered, vaguely, if Jamaica counted. After all, when she had last been there, the entire bloody area had been part of the same country, technically. That country had just been jolly old England.