To Die For
JJ Buch
Saz martin
Saz Martin,

Saz Martin is usually described in the press as 'flip', 'sassy', 'sharp', 'sexy', 'politically incorrect', and -- all too damn often -- 'feisty'.

The character is never physically described in any of the four novels, so JJ's interpretations of what she looks like are just that -- interpretations. All Stella knows is that Saz runs every morning, she likes alcohol, coke, good food, and (unlike the traditional lone PI) she has a loving partner and a fine sex life.

And she's not really all that competent a detective either. But then, these books aren't about whodunit anyway, they are much more about whydunit; neither the author nor the protagonist are especially interested in who the baddie is, being much more taken with the idea of WHY the baddie is. And why the goodie is. And if there's really all that much difference in the end.

Saz Martin is also gay. This is NOT the most interesting thing about her.

Stella Duffy

Saz Martin clothes
Fresh Flesh
Running Saz

Saz Martin ran through a summer shower, short breaths of cool morning air stabbing the back of her throat. She crossed the road from the Heath, turned the last painful half mile uphill, took another left turn and slowed to a jogging walk around the corner of the big old house. She walked up the last four stairs to the flat, fumbled in her zipped pocket for her house keys, managed to drop them almost immediately, bent down to pick them up again, ripped the wailing Neil Young from her ears and heard the phone ringing from inside.

"Shit, fuck, shit, damn it, fuck."

Her agitated fingers then dropped the walkman and it clattered down concrete stairs behind her. She chose to ignore the sound of splintering plastic. Eventually she twisted all three keys into each of their right locks and flew into the flat, slammed open the kitchen door and reached for the phone past two dirty coffee mugs and a barely touched bowl of soggy muesli. "Hello?"

"Any news?"

"Oh fuck, Carrie, it's you."

Beneath The Blonde
Red Suit Saz

Molly joined the traffic in Hampstead High Street, Saz blew her nose and continued with her description of the day's events.

"Finally he turns his attention to me, telling Cassie 'Your sister's no better, even if she is a dyke she should still have the decency to wear a dress to a formal occasion.' So I stood up, climbed on to the table and I took off the trousers and the jacket of my beautifully cut and incredibly expensive deep red raw silk suit to show him, and the rest of the assembled guests, just exactly why I wasn't wearing dinky little mini skirts so often this season. While no doubt one or two people were enjoying the sight of my Janet Reager underwear, everyone else was gasping in shock at my horrifically scarred legs and stomach. "

"So you didn't exactly get kicked out?"

"Not as such. But I'm tired, hungry, hungover, furious with myself for letting him get to me and ... oh God, you know. This."

She hit her right thigh in frustration and Molly took Saz's scarred hand to stop her hitting herself again.

"Yeah babe, I know."

Saz Martin black dress
Calendar Girl
Peroxide Blonde Saz

Simon James crashed into his office and immediately checked the drawers of both his desk and his filing cabinet. He then kicked open the door of his dressing room, switching on the bright overhead light and pointing the gun right at Saz's head, he demanded "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

Saz looked up from where she lay naked on the bed, covered only by a sheet and smiled, "Waiting for you, Simon. What else?"

James laughed. After years in the business this was what he'd come to expect from a lot of the girls who worked for him. He'd had an idea that maybe this one was different though. A feeling at the back of his mind that there was something else she was after. But no, in the end this girl was like all the others - peroxide blonde or natural, they were, after all, women.

He put the gun down and loosened his tie, pulling her to him, "I didn't mean to fall asleep back there, hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

The swiftness of his movement and the cold silk of his shirt against her skin surprised her and Saz let out a gasp of breath. Simon James took this for a gasp of pleasure. He started to kiss her. Now Saz knew she was definitely in trouble.

Please note that to prevent unauthorized copying, these web images have been altered to reduce the quality and the clothes shown on this page are not proportionate to the doll. Now taking orders in the Tart City All Night Mall .

See Margo Fortier, by Tony Fennelly

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Sparkle's Robin Hudson

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