I’m Blake McQueen, daughter of Miles McQueen: businessman, politician, all around upstanding member of the community.
I’m told that name means something, but well, I’ve pretty much doused it in petrol, set it on fire, and taken a shit on it for good measure. I like to think of myself as a walking middle finger.
My name is now synonymous with booze, parties, sex, and drugs. I have to read the newspaper in the morning just to see where I was, possibly who I fucked, and judge my state of inebriation based on how much tit or minge is splashed across page five.
Judge me all you like, love me, hate me. I don’t give a fuck.
Life’s a party and you should never stop dancing.
But even the sweetest of highs has it’s low. There is only so high you can go before you fall, and fall I did, right into the arms of the only man that could possibly stop me from crashing and burning. I’ve always been untouchable. I’ve never cared enough to be touchable. Until now.
Love is the most destructive drug of all.
She’s a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.