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LET THE WIND BLOW THROUGH YOU:
Lakota and White, belonging in neither.
The woman he has loved all his life has become the feared donna of the crime family which controls the state.
Join Luke as he enters a party where revenge is the main course:
The driver dropped me off, disappearing into the night. A disapproving waiter led me into a modest drawing room the size of Missouri.
Rubies and diamonds sparkled on ivory throats and wrists like drippings from the sea.
The low rumble of the music was muffled by the rise and fall of empty conversation and brittle laughter.
I looked at the ebb and tide of desire upon wealth, greed upon opportunity.
The social elite milling through the room seemed to be talking against a darkness that pressed in on them or fought to escape them.
I was caught up in a sense of unreality as if the world of sun, mountain, and desert had slipped out of reach somehow.
It wasn’t the first time.
In fact I had lived most of my years in Boston in that twilight world.
My years.
A long trail of disconnected moments that had failed to add up to a life. A deep voice suddenly sneered beside me.
“It is only the superficial qualities that entice.
Man’s deeper nature always is rancid in some fashion. Isn’t that right, Dr. Winters?
Oh, I forgot. You lost your license, didn’t you?”
I turned. Dr. Winwood, the city’s leading psychologist.
His block chin jutted out at me like a blunt instrument.
His smile was a mask, behind which his calculating mind peered out, weighing the blush here, the furtive glance there.
His smug face said he knew the bills in my mailbox and the sins of my past.
He had too much free time.
“Still his success rate is higher than yours, Winwood.”
I turned to my left.
Victoria, elegant in a retro-Titanic gown that was suddenly all the rage, one arm tucked behind her back.
As always the sight of her hit me like a physical blow.
Her body was as slim and slight as the branch of a birch. Her shoulders were the white of mountain peaks.
Her long, sparkling gown blazed under the bright lights as if spun from fresh-shed blood. And her face? Her face.
It was beautiful and terrible beyond any singing of it. I found myself holding my breath as I lost myself in her green eyes.
Most found those eyes frighteningly cold. But that was just a polished front to hide the fact that they’d lost their way a long time ago.
Perhaps my own eyes looked the same.
***
Lovely! And so rich with striking metaphors and similes for descriptions. You sure can write, Roland my dear.
ReplyDeleteThis looks interesting and I so agree with Helena above, you certainly can write. Wow! And you are such a good friend. Thank you for stopping by, reading about illness, keeping us in your prayers. It has touched my heart, thank you so much.
ReplyDeleteHave you published the last book in the Death In The House Of Life trilogy? I want to find out what happens.
Helena:
ReplyDeleteThat is kind of you to say. :-) Now, if only the sales bore that out!! Ouch. But a man is not defeated until he quits. Can you believe Nixon said that? :-)
Inger:
You are so often in my thoughts, Inger, ... you and your husband. And each time I think of you both, I pray for you.
I haven't started on the 3rd book -- since there hasn't been much interest in the 2nd. :-(
But I am slowly writing the 7th Victor Standish novel (which, in a way, is his first adventure since it details his adventures in the CARNIVAL OF THE DAMNED.)
I mention it since Victor's nemesis in it is none other than THE STARS BLEED AT MIDNIGHT's villain, the mummy child Princess Shert Nebti!!
In the original black and white Universal Mummy movies, the mummy would seek revenge on the son of the hero of the former movie -- so Princess Shert Nebti is after revenge on McCord by going after poor Victor.'
As if Victor doesn't make enough enemies all on his, he inherits one from the father he doesn't know!
I really admire the way you keep turning out the written books as well as the audio books. You're doing a great job of creating a back catalog. I think your efforts will pay off well at the rate you're going. Nice job.
ReplyDeleteArlee Bird
A to Z Challenge Co-host
Tossing It Out
Arlee:
ReplyDeleteThat is nice of you to say. It means a lot. I am trying to create an inticing back catalog that readers and listeners who like my work will be able to lose themselves in my fictional world. :-)
Cross your fingers for me, all right?
Very nice.
ReplyDelete