Sorry about the spanking comment. That was rude, and I blame it on temporary mental confusion due to a bad cheese grits burn. (Note: am totally using cheese grits as a weapon in the next book - that shit is HOT) Honestly I don't even know how you could spank yourself. Unless that's a euphemism for something I probably don't need to know about. Feel free to comment on that. Or not.
But since you're here, there's nothing like a little NOLA mayhem to get you in the Mardi Gras mood - check out my video for The Getaway Girls New Orleans Rap or read on for some scavenger fun in an excerpt from The Getaway Girls: A New Orleans Tale of Monsters, Mayhem and Moms . . .
But since you're here, there's nothing like a little NOLA mayhem to get you in the Mardi Gras mood - check out my video for The Getaway Girls New Orleans Rap or read on for some scavenger fun in an excerpt from The Getaway Girls: A New Orleans Tale of Monsters, Mayhem and Moms . . .
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Audrey barely noticed the paintings in the foyer of The Columns Hotel as she walked down a threadbare
carpet runner toward the bathroom. She
passed the old dining room and then the long, wooden bar where two college boys
in button-down shirts and khaki shorts were tossing back whiskey.
“Hey, darlin',” the tall one with floppy dark blonde
hair said as he approached Audrey. He
had a deep voice, the kind of Southern accent that suggested lots of money and
bourbon, and a cocky grin that reeked of frat parties and date rape. “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”
Audrey smiled and said, “Thanks, but I’ve already got a
drink and I’m with my friends.”
The boy smiled and reached out a hand to place on
Audrey’s elbow. “Aw, sugar, you’re too
pretty to hang out with the girls all night.
You haven’t visited New Orleans till you’ve had a Tulane man buy you a
cocktail.”
Audrey laughed. “You’re cute, but I’m probably old
enough to be your mom. Thanks anyway, sport!” She darted into the ladies’ room, leaving
Tulane Boy panting and angry on the other side of the door.
“Come on, man,” his friend said, tugging on his arm.
“Plenty other bitches out here, let’s get another round.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Tulane Boy jerked away from his buddy, saying, “You go order, I gotta
take a leak.”
“You come right back, though, y’hear?” The friend
asked, looking Tulane Boy as directly in the eye as his drunken state would
allow. “We don’t want any trouble, do we?”
“No, man. No trouble.”
Tulane Boy ducked into the men’s room for about sixty
seconds, and then he eased the door quietly back open. He stood in front of the ladies’ room door and
looked to the right and to the left. He put one large hand on the frosted glass
panel of the door, and carefully began to turn the knob with the other hand.
“Leave her alone.”
The cultured English voice startled Tulane Boy and he jerked
around. A tall, dark-haired man sat in
the parlor across the hall from the bar.
His face was hidden in the shadowy light of the empty room, but his
muscular arm stretched the fabric of his suit coat as he casually turned his
highball glass round and round in his hand.
Tulane Boy was certain he hadn’t noticed anyone when
he’d slipped into the hall, but maybe he had made a mistake in the murky light.
He smiled his practiced good ol’ boy grin and said,
“Leave who alone? I’m just tryin’ to take a piss, brother.” He then pretended to notice that he had the
wrong bathroom door and slapped his hand across his forehead. “Oh man, look at
that – I almost went into the ladies’ room.
Thanks for the heads up.” He
nodded to the man who, Tulane Boy could clearly tell did not believe him, and
he turned around and headed back to the bar.
The man sat without moving in the dark parlor until
Tulane Boy disappeared from sight. He
stared directly ahead with black eyes and inhaled deeply of the stale, dusty
air. His full lips curved up only slightly as if he’d just thought of something
funny. Then he stood up and placed his empty glass on a table without a sound
and with a few quiet steps, approached the ladies’ room door.
Audrey was washing her hands when she heard the sound
of the door opening. Instinctively, she
moved back into the corner, anticipating the entry of another woman in the
slightly cramped space. She tossed her used paper towel into the trash and
turned toward the door and jumped at the sight of a tall, handsome man in his
early forties standing less than two feet away.
“Whoa, you scared me!”
She exclaimed and then smiled awkwardly. “I think you got the wrong
bathroom. Men’s is next door.”
The man did not speak.
He moved even closer and Audrey could smell earthy, musky cologne.
“Um, can I help you with something?” Audrey asked, trying to keep the hint of
panic from permeating her voice.
The stranger leaned down so his face was inches from
Audrey’s. She could see the faint
stubble of hair on his flushed olive skin and the reflection of her nervous
green eyes in his large, round, black orbs.
The musky scent
was almost suffocating as he whispered in a rich, delicious British accent
straight out of a Merchant Ivory film, “Shut up and fuck me.”
Audrey’s heart began to beat a wild, erratic dance and
she could feel sweat breaking out all over.
“What . . . what did you say?”
He whispered again, slightly louder, “Shut up. And fuck
me.”
“How did you hear me say that?” Audrey asked, her voice shaking. “You weren’t anywhere near our table. I never even saw you.”
The stranger stared at Audrey with his deep, black
eyes. “I saw you. And now I want
you. Do I have to repeat myself?”
Audrey’s eyes darted around the bathroom. He had her trapped and he knew it. The bathroom was tiny and she had no room to
hide. And while he was undeniably gorgeous,
even after six drinks in three hours, she knew that the evening had taken a
sudden turn from sexy to Scary.
So she pasted on a big fake smile and said, “Not
tonight, I got a headache.” She tried to
move as if she expected him to bow gracefully out of the way and announce that
he had been kidding.
That didn’t happen.
Instead, he lunged at her. Audrey swung her purse, a heavy black leather
saddle bag, at his head. He ducked and
she tried to slip under his arm, but he pinned her to the wall. She kicked at his knee and opened her mouth
to scream, but he covered it with his hand, saying “Don’t scream. They won’t
help you.”
She bit his hand, and he let go long enough to look at
the blood trickling down between his fingers. He grabbed both of her shoulders
and slammed her against the wall. She
felt a horrible sharp pain in her head and she moaned. His face came closer to
hers again and she kept her eyes shut, pretending to have fainted. As he moved close enough that she could feel
his breath, she opened her eyes and bit one of his ears.
He howled and let go, and she darted between his
legs. He bent down and grabbed her by
the waist, hurling her around so that her cheekbone smacked straight into the
bottom of the sink. She screamed from
the pain and he didn’t seem to notice. He jerked her body upright like she was an
old doll and she felt nauseated by the movement.
He jerked her neck to the side and her head hurt
horribly. She could feel that her purse strap still dangled from her right hand
and suddenly she remembered the lighter she’d picked up in one of those cheap
tourist shops off Bourbon.
She rarely smoked anymore, but after polishing off a
bottle of Cabernet at Galatoire’s the night before, she’d craved one, and if
she could remember anything at all right now it was that the lighter might be
in the small inside pocket at the top of her purse. She reached into the purse and felt
desperately until she found it. She
pulled it out with terribly shaking fingers and fumbled with the catch.
She flung the flaming lighter into the stranger’s
face. He howled and grabbed at his nose
and eyes. She swung her purse one more time into his arm and yanked the door
open, falling out into the hall in one clumsy movement.
As she picked herself up off the carpet, she looked up
and saw Tulane Boy standing at the bar.
She wanted to call out for help, but before she could make a single
noise, he turned and saw her. He looked
down at her, bruised and bleeding.
His
nostrils flared and he licked his lips.
__________________
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