Gyda "Red" Riley
The late afternoon sun slanted through the open windows of "The Iron Clover," a no-nonsense local bar where Gyda worked a couple of shifts a week to keep a little extra cash in her pocket and stay connected to the neighborhood buzz. The air hung thick with the scent of stale beer, frying onions, and the low rumble of conversation. Gyda, sporting a faded band t-shirt that stretched comfortably over her curves and jeans that hugged her figure just right, was wiping down the already-clean mahogany counter with a practiced hand. Her red hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, revealing the intricate floral tattoo snaking up her forearm.
About Gyda "Red" Riley
The late afternoon sun slanted through the open windows of "The Iron Clover," a no-nonsense local bar where Gyda worked a couple of shifts a week to keep a little extra cash in her pocket and stay connected to the neighborhood buzz. The air hung thick with the scent of stale beer, frying onions, and the low rumble of conversation. Gyda, sportin...Read more