Hello Readers,
I haven't posted anything in a couple of weeks, but I am still here and still writing! What I have included in this post is a preview chapter from my new book that I am currently working on with the title
"Jamaican Jive".
Its the story of four friends who visit Kingston Jamaica on a vacation, and while on the island they get involved in intrigue, and the mystery of a sudden death of a night club owner. What was intended to be a fun and relaxing excursion to paradise, turns into something...entirely different.
Attached are two files for my readers to preview. The anticipated completion date is late November when I hope to have located an agent and have the manuscript ready to hand over. Read on to sample my new book...
Wish me luck!
Chapter Three
Santana's Nightclub was the funkiest club in Kingston and the most
popular one on the Hip Strip. The
exterior was quite nondescript, but once you crossed the threshold to the
entrance, it was another world. Inside was cool and the lighting was dim but
allowed for plenty of illumination to see what the customers needed to see, and
there was no danger of feeling in the dark. There was a huge indoor waterfall
in the center of the room, and small bistro type tables surrounded its
perimeter. Located around the outer part of the room were several leather
banquettes in a deep orange color.
Each one
had its own wall lamp that was lit with small opaque light bulbs. There was a
raised dais at the rear of the room where a band played some pretty groovy
Calypso music, and right now, the patrons sitting in the banquettes and at the
tables was just enjoying the upbeat sounds. Warm, rich colors were the dominant
theme of the interior, where the walls were painted in scenic murals, depicting
singers and dancers, in various stages of performing, and musical notes and
instruments were blended in to complete the scenes.
The images
had been painted with such precision and with such expertise and likeness to
the people they represented, that they seemed to flicker in the subdued
lighting and come alive from the walls, in a three dimensional parody of the
real thing. The shiny dance floor did not yet hold any dancers, but the night
was young. One could enter this club and immediately feel a sense of excitement
and the promise of a good time.
Dante
had accompanied them to the entrance of the club, and he had summoned the club
manager Robaire Wendell as Mr. DeJohn had instructed him to do. When the ladies
had been greeted by Robaire, and shown to the VIP Lounge, only then did he feel
free to take his leave.
He was
quite a bit younger than his former charges, but he held an admiration for each
of them and he had not missed out on a single thing about how they looked.
Extremely well dressed, smelling good enough to eat, and wonderful
personalities to boot. So many Americans thought themselves better than
Jamaicans, and they came over here with their demands and their condescension,
thinking that the measly tips they left gave them the right to look down their
noses at him. But not Ms. Alexis and her friends...they were classy ladies if
he ever saw one.
No
sooner had the ladies been seated on a long, white leather couch in the VIP
Lounge, did a man approach them. Claudette turned as she heard a man's voice
speaking close by to see Robaire; their host give a nod in the direction where
they were seated. The man that was speaking reached down and took her hand,
kissed it in a way reminiscent of old world gallantry and when he spoke, his
voice sounded like liquid silk...if there were such a thing. He introduced
himself as Sebastian Jarvis, Club Owner Extraordinaire. He looked absolutely delicious as he stood
there in his white linen slacks and shirt opened nearly halfway down the front,
and whatever the fragrance was he was wearing, she had never smelt before and
would never forget. He wore a white beret with a gold insignia on it and the
touch of his hand was smooth and dry.
Helena
watched them all unobtrusively. She noted the suave way this new player
Sebastian carried himself, she noticed the high blush on Claudette's face, and
she noticed something else; and she was sure that she was the only one who did.
There was a shrewdness about the way he carried himself, that was both passive
and luring at the same time. While Mr. Jarvis was making his preliminary move
on her friend, someone else was watching from a distance. It was more of a
feeling at first; you know how your skin prickles and a flush comes over your
body at the same
time your
sensory perception goes off the radar in a way that alerts you to danger. She
automatically knew that somehow they were in jeopardy.
For
a few moments, Helena simply sat nursing her drink trying to remain calm while
she gathered her nerve to turn around and look. She wasn't sure where she would
look, or what she would find, but she knew that all she had to do was turn her
head slightly, and whatever it was that was actively causing this nervous
sensation would manifest it.
She
turned her head just a bit to her left because Sebastian and Claudette were on
her right. Her pretense was to smile at the patrons seated nearest her left
side. She did, and then she let her gaze slowly roam over the area near the
entrance and she noticed two very tall and imposing women looking directly at
where they were seated. They were both exquisitely dressed and quite attractive
and had an authoritative air about them. Their ages were hard to tell because
of the lighting in the VIP Room, and because of the dim lighting here also.
Nevertheless,
Helena met their steady gaze with one of her own. She did not smile, nor did
they. After the space of a few heartbeats, Helena turned away very casually and
again picked up her drink. Claudette was laughing coyly at whatever it was
Sebastian was saying to her, and Alexis was ordering some light appetizers from
the Hostess/ Waitress. Bonnie had excused herself to go in search of the powder
room. The two women did not move from their place by the door as Bonnie got up,
so Helena was pretty sure she wouldn't be followed. Still, she remained on
alert just in case.
It
wasn't until Bonnie had returned to her seat, and Sebastian and Claudette had
taken to the dance floor that Helena started to relax a bit. Well, it was too
soon because just as she tossed her head laughing at something Bonnie had said
that she again felt the strange sensation. Before she could turn her head and
look this time, the two women had approached their seating area, drinks in hand
and without waiting for an invitation, they both sat down; each one on a
separate end of the long couch.
“Good
evening ladies, allow us please to introduce ourselves. With a sweeping hand
gesture she said “This is my friend Almoy. And I (she paused for dramatic
effect as she seemed to stand up even straighter) am Druscilla. I am
Sebastian's wife.” No one said a word or even breathed it seemed. This was the
exact reaction Druscilla had known she would receive. She knew she had the
upper hand and would use it to her advantage…as she always did.
Not
a muscle moved on anyone sitting at the table. The other patrons in the club
who had watched Druscilla and Almoy approach the American party were not
surprised to see this. Most of them here were regulars, so they had seen this
melodrama played out before. They could count on Sebastian making a move on
female tourists, and they could depend on his wife showing up to spoil it by
bringing along just a hint of fear with her. Helena had only a split second to
take note of their cultured way of speaking and carrying themselves before her
next thought; “Oops. Kingston we have a problem.”
