I pulled myself from the pile of pillows and sheets where I slept.Then I wrapped my favorite blanket around me before following the lone note of the trumpet to Cory Porter’s open door. From the hall I could see he wasn’t alone. Four or five of Whiskey Bay’s regulars were all snuggled down in the well-worn, overstuffed sofa and armchairs. Tonight, Cory was the sole performer. The trumpet’s notes multiplied into a heartbreaking melody that awakened me. Now, his music stirred up into a furious storm of angry notes that taunted and raged at the listener. I walked in slowly and approached the sofa. One of Cory’s friends patted his lap and I sat down. I nestled sideways on the man’s lap with my head against his shoulder. The music softened into a steady rhythm accompanied by the beating heart of the man who held me.
http://www.smashwords.com or http://www.barnesandnoble.com .. Just type the title Mrs. Baker’s Ghost and step through the door. If you have already ventured through the book, please go back and leave a short book review.
Filed under: Uncategorized |