Box Set coming soon
The old Gemma charm was quickly winning her over. It was hard not to like someone who insisted on sucking the marrow out of the bones of life. Her enthusiasm for pleasure was surpassed only by her ability to make pleasure her bitch.
…impaling each other with the delight of joyous demons hiding in heaven.
Searing rays of light shot through the bistro windows like a Double Slit experiment.
Her leg shook from the effort of holding the gas pedal down. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her arid mouth. Tingling fingers of doom fluttered over her skin, became talons, and she could almost feel the mammoth black beak, pecking at her eyes.
Smoking, he gazed at the moon. One of the few unchanging things in this world. No matter when he had cast his eyes into the night sky, he saw it there, glowing and regal. It usually steadied him, but not tonight. Tonight it was glowering at him. Casting aspersions. Looking down on him like an angry orbital god.
Dane Sparks stood with her pen hovering over the order pad, hoping that this time, the woman would be ready to order.
“What’s the special today?” the woman asked, lifting her chin to peer through the bifocals.
“Fish & Chips.”
“Hm. I don’t care much for chips. Can I have fries instead?”
“Then why are they called chips?”
“It’s a…British thing.”
“But we’re not in Britain.”
Dane mashed her lips together. “So, you’d like the Fish & Chips, then?”
“Yes. As long as the chips are fries, as you say.”
It’s not like she didn’t know what her grandmother’s failing health and age would eventually lead to. But she never let
herself think about it too much; though not for the usual reasons. Not because the loss would be too great to consider. Not because the woman who raised her was near and dear to her heart. But because Dane didn’t want to carry a brick-load of guilt. Grandchildren were supposed to love and adore their doddering old grandmothers. But that was only if the grandparents were lovable. And Nana was not. She considered her a likely suspect in the death of Grandpa Sparks, in fact. Dane even saw her kick a dog once. No telling how many other dogs she’d kicked privately. Nor how many kittens she’d drowned, nor how many children she’d frightened. Beatrice Sparks was bitchy, controlling, and critical, and seemed to be missing the compassion and sensitivity gene. She was an energy vampire. It’s why Dane spent as little time as possible in the loft, until the old woman was asleep.
More than once, Dane had considered putting something in the old woman’s tea to hasten her demise. She’d also considered letting a poisonous snake loose in the loft and locking the old crone in. Once, when Nana was verbally lacerating Dane in the car as they drove to a doctor’s appointment, she considered opening the door and shoving Nana out. But ultimately, Dane could not conjure up a sufficient load of wickedness to do any of those things.