Category: Romance Publisher: Lady Leo Publishing Company
ISBN-10: B001R4CJQG
Type: Fiction
Pages: 31
Copyright: Oct. 7, 2008
A woman's desire pushes her to do the unforgettable.
Art curator, Rachine Forster, works for Williams’ Art Gallery. She has a vibrate personality and men are drawn to her, but there’s only one man she really wants. It’s a known fact that everything her identical, twin sister Rachel has, she wants including her fine-ass husband, Sheldon Lee.
Excerpt
“It’s about damn time you showed up for our birthday celebration,” I snorted. “I’ve been sitting here for over an hour!”
“Sorry Rach, the time got away from me. Edward and Brandy wanted to give me their presents. Then, I had to tuck them into bed and Sheldon—”
“I don’t want to hear about your damn family!” I spat. “What about us? Don’t I count, anymore?”
“How much have you had to drink, Rachine?”
I let out an embarrassing loud belch.
“Excuse me, I’m celebrating our birthday,” I declared, finishing off my second drink. “Where’s that fine, dark chocolate waiter? I need another drink?”
“You’re drunk, Rachine!”
I snapped my fingers to get the waiter’s attention.
“I’m feeling mighty damn good,” I slurred. I sat straight up because my dress revealed a little too much cleavage—even for me.
“We need to order dinner, before you embarrass yourself,” Rachel said in that superior tone of voice she had—so much like our mother.
I wasn’t hungry, but to shut Rachel up, I ordered a Chicken Caesar Salad, and another drink. She ordered lasagna and garlic bread, with an Apple Martini.
The waiter—tall, dark-chocolate, and equipped with a buffed body—took our order. He was sumptuous, and totally to my liking, I thought.
Turning thirty was messing with my head, so I had to know if I was still desirable in a man’s eyes. I couldn’t resist palming his tight buns when he walked away with our dinner order.
He turned and winked at me.
“Rachine! What are you doing?” Rachel asked, looking shocked and ashamed.
“What?” I answered back, looking completely innocent.
“You touched his buttocks,” Rachel chastised.
“Hey, you have a husband at home. I’ve got to find mine, from somewhere.”
“What happened to Kenneth?” She asked, after taking a sip from her Apple Martini.
The same waiter returned and placed our drinks on the table. On the low, he slipped me his digits on a napkin.
“Richard Lawson. Maybe, I’ll give him a call,” I said, tucking away his name and number inside of my handbag in case of a sexual emergency.
“He’s too young for you, Rachine!”
“Haven’t you heard? That means he’ll make a great lover, and he’ll keep me in shape.”
“You haven’t answered my question about Kenneth?”
“He left me—like all the others.”
“You mean you drove him away, too? When will you learn?”
“Shut up, Rachel! I don’t feel like another lecture from you. One mother was more than enough.”
“That’s your problem! You’re a selfish bitch, and everything has to be your way! In my opinion, Kenneth was too damn good for you. You’ll never find someone to love you,” Rachel fired back.
“You don’t know anything!” I retorted.
“As bitchy as you are, no wonder you can’t keep a man. Mother was right! You have too many of our father’s arrogant ways.”
“Who the hell do you think you are? Mother has no say about my life! She should look at her own love life, and then she can talk!” My temper was at flashpoint.
How dare Rachel and Mother discuss my life!
“I don’t need this mess, Rachine! I left my husband, my children, and sat thirty minutes in traffic to subject myself to you! Why don’t you celebrate our birthday all by your damn self.”
She grabbed her purse and ran toward the restaurant’s front door.
“I’m not a bitch, you are! I hollered back. “Go on back to your husband; I don’t need you, either!”
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
