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It was an assignment I never expected.

My name is Kazmir Swenson, I'm thirty-four years old and I write for a magazine that writes cutting edge stories about culture. It bills itself as a magazine for those who live life to the fullest. We only accept advertising from high end products like expensive cars and watches.

Who am I kidding? Our magazine is known world-wide for its centerfold.

"Kaz, you broke up with your girlfriend, didn't you?" My editor asked. My editor, Bob Piotrowski, was the son of the founder of the magazine, V. Edgar Piotrowski, called Vee by everyone. It was Bob who had the vision to make the magazine a world-wide success.

"Yeah, Marilyn and I broke up six months ago." He knew I was also divorced. "What's up?"

"I want a story on the brothels of Amsterdam."

"Shit, Bob, everyone's done that."

"Not like this. I'm thinking of a working title ‘The Hidden Brothels of Amsterdam.' You leave next week. Gwendolyn has the details."

...

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