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  The official site 

Welcome to my site! I'm the author of This Life of Ours, When We Owned New York, The Prison Wife and Things published by Brooklyn Girl Press, LLC. This female centric series  flips the coin on the traditional story about working, living and loving New York Mobsters told from a girl’s perspective. The books are filled with sex, betrayal and sabotage during the wild 80's & 90's all set in NYC and Brooklyn's hottest nightclubs and restaurants. All work is copyright protected and registered with the Writers Guild East/AFL-CIO.

Please check out my You Tube, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr blog, Diane Morton-Gattullo with more information about the series, blog searches, free blog sites and of course my books. 

THIS LIFE OF OURS..."Being an attraction wasn't anything new to my girlfriends and me. In our line of work, it was common; in fact it built up our earning potential. Everyone wanted to be part of the in crowd. Kind of like the allure of the boys, only we sold a fantasy with a drink. I worked all over Brooklyn, New York and even LA sometimes in more than one place at a time. It was all about supply and demand and where the money was. This Life of Ours was amazing! We lived and loved in the greatest bars and clubs in Brooklyn and New York City. We went where we wanted, when we wanted. We were never told there wasn't a table or a parking spot just for us. Life was like the lyrics to a song and we sang it with every action and move we made. People on the outside either despised or envied us, but we never noticed them. If they weren't part of our world, we didn't care! Life was fast and furious; we loved and played hard, it was the big car and big cigar days, dripping with diamonds and furs. 

 My haunts were the hottest clubs; my girls and I hit them almost every night. Club lines were a part of a pedestrian's everyday life, but not for us. Other people waited on lines; we were offered them. No bouncer ever stood in our way, unless it was to get his kiss on the cheek. Stopping to pay admission was an absurd concept; the clubs should have paid us to be there. We brought the party with us and collected souls along the way. No velvet rope ever barred us, but yet we surrounded ourselves with them. We spent like rock stars, tipped like gangsters, drove hot sports cars, and dressed to kill. Pulling up to a club, we tossed our keys and walked past all the amateurs waiting in line. Truly we were living the life people couldn't even imagine, it was fun being us! Once inside the real party would begin..."