“Oh no!” Mac stumbles and nearly falls. She grabs Mary’s arm to regain her balance and they bang heads.
“Ow!” Mary rubs at her ear. “That hurt, Mac.”
Ahead of them, Lyn and Patsy continue on toward the brightly lit mansion on Charleston’s historic Battery Row. “Quit fooling around, you two. We’re almost there.”
“Who’s fooling around?” Mac grumbles.
Patsy pauses to look over her shoulder. Clinging to Mary’s arm, Mac wobbles as she lifts one foot to wince at the heel of her gorgeous strappy stiletto sandal, hanging at an odd angle. “I knew these cobblestones were going to be a problem.”
Lyn smirks. “I don’t think the cobblestones are the problem. I think it’s your feet.”
Mac snorts and drops her foot to gingerly balance on her toes. “So says Ms. Ski feet. You have a lot more surface to balance on. The rest of us are at a disadvantage.”
Lyn grins and breaks into a little tap dance in her three inch heels, despite the uneven pavement.
“Show off.” Mary laughs.
“This is a disaster.” Mac frowns then glances longingly up at the second story piazza of Rover House where Linda Nightingale’s party is already in full swing. “How am I supposed to dance the night away with hunky southern men if I’m hobbling off balance?”
Patsy digs through her clutch purse and holds out a small tube. “Here you go.”
Mac gawks at the offering. “You carry super glue with you to a society dinner?”
She shrugs and hands over the tube. “I like to be prepared.”
“You’re such a girl scout.”
Patsy laughs. Mac slips off her shoe, reattaches the heel and tosses the glue back to her. The hostesses continue on toward the walkway to the historic mansion. Mac scurries to follow, blowing on the drying glue while bobbing unevenly on one bare foot. From the open front door, welcoming light spills out on the balmy, southern evening. Tinkling music, friendly conversation and soft laughter reaches their ears.
“Did I mention the current owner of the house is rumored to be a vampire?” Lyn grins maniacally.
Mary groans and Mac skitters to a stop. She eyes Patsy’s little purse. “You don’t happen to have any garlic in there, do you? Or a couple of wooden stakes?”
“That’s an oxymoron.” Mac shoves her repaired shoe onto her foot, mumbling beneath her breath. “Zombies last week, now vampires. Why don’t we ever go to normal parties?”
“Where would the fun be in that?” Mary bumps Mac’s shoulder and she stumbles. A loud snap accompanies her yelp as her other heel gives out.
“Geez, I have faulty shoes!” Disgust crosses her features as she stares helplessly at the snickering hostesses. She holds out an open palm to Patsy. While Mac repairs her second shoe, Linda greets them, stunning in her couture evening gown.
“You’re here!” She grabs the hostesses in a hug. “Wait until you see. The cream of Charleston society are all here, and the food! Oh, everything is perfect to celebrate my release of SINNER’S OPERA.”
Behind her, tuxedo clad waiters move amongst the gathered guests with trays of boiled peanuts, shrimp and low country oysters. Platters of succulent Beef Wellington share the buffet tables with
creamy potatoes and steaming bowls of She Crab Soup.
Lyn hums, spotting the tray of pralines on the pastry cart.
Oliver slides through the crowd, dashing as usual in black. He stops before them and dips his head in a cultured bow. The hostesses grin as Linda passes out glasses of delicate pink drinks from his tray.
She holds out her glass.
She holds out her glass.
“To SINNER’S OPERA.”
“We’ll drink to that,” the hostesses say as one, accompanied by the musical clink of crystal glasses.
Morgan D’Arcy is a classical pianist, an English lord and a vampire. He has everything except what he desires most—Isabeau. When she was a child, he appeared to her as the Angel Gabriel, influencing her life and career choice, preparing her to become Lady D’Arcy. Many forces oppose Morgan’s daring plan—not the least of which is Vampyre law. A vampire must not sire a child on a mortal.
Isabeau Gervase is a brilliant geneticist engaged to a prominent attorney. Though she no longer believes in angels, she sees a ticket to a Nobel Prize in the genetic puzzle presented by her long-absent childhood friend. She intends to unravel Gabriel’s secrets, using the DNA contained in a lock of his hair and identify the non-human species she named the Angel Genome.
Morgan is ready to come back into Isabeau’s life, but this time as a man—and a vampire—not an angel. Will he outsmart his enemies, protect his beloved and escape death himself? For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.
Born in South Carolina, I've lived in England, Canada, Miami, Atlanta and Houston. Somewhat of a gypsy, I've seen a lot of this country through the window of a truck pulling a horse trailer. I bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses, rode sidesaddle and did musical freestyle exhibitions to Phantom of the Opera. My stallion Bonito, imported from Costa Rica, was twice National Champion at halter. Besides writing, I loves horses, sports cars, books and piano. I am the mother of two wonderful sons.
My web site is: http://www.lindanightingale.com
Contest ends on Sunday and everyone who comments is eligible.
Sadly, we are saying goodbye to our hostess Patsy, this week. We'll miss her and Hampy very much, and we're sure you'll join with us in wishing her well with all her future endeavours.
This of course, means we are short-staffed so if you think you have what it takes to be a hostess, please contact us at our usual email address authorroast@
gmail.com and we'll tell you what it entails.