Cocktails at Sunset - a sneak peak
Here is a very small snippet of the first chapter of Cocktails at Sunset. You'll have to read the book to find out what happens next.
Candlelight flickered against the faded wallpaper and bathed the room in a gentle glow. Two place settings balanced precariously on the doily covered table which tilted on uneven legs. Miniature screw-top bottles of blush wine waited beside chipped crystal wine glasses. Covered in foil, well-worn Wedgwood china held tonight’s special of processed turkey with instant mashed potatoes. The scent of lavender bath salts and Ben-Gay wafted through the air and Frank Sinatra crooned softly on a cassette player.
The door swooshed open. Giggling, a petite woman in her golden years tiptoed in leading a gentleman by the arm.
“What is this, Delores?” the man asked loudly, confusion in his eyes.
“Shhh, someone will hear us and I’ll be in big trouble,” the woman whispered.
"Where are we?"
Delores knitted her eyebrows lightly and patted his cheek. “Sammy, we’re in my room. Remember we talked about this yesterday. I’ve spent all day preparing. Now we’ll have our private dinner, and then who knows what may happen?” She giggled again, like the young girl she once was, took his hand, and led him to a seat at the table.
“I smuggled our dinner in earlier. We have wine, and I remembered your favorite dessert.” Delores unscrewed the caps and poured two glasses of wine.
Sammy and Delores leisurely consumed their dinner, provided courtesy of the Sunset Elderly Living Facility, savoring each bite and saving the chocolate pudding cups for last. Within thirty minutes of finishing their desserts, Delores and Sammy were in the throes of passion. Delores attributed the shortness of breath, ringing in her ears and light headed feeling to Sammy's manliness. In fifty-five years of marriage, she never experienced those sensations with her late husband.
Less than an hour after Sammy succumbed to her charms, he was dead of an apparent heart attack, courtesy of the little blue pill someone had slipped in their pudding cups.
ɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤ
CHAPTER ONE
Candlelight flickered against the faded wallpaper and bathed the room in a gentle glow. Two place settings balanced precariously on the doily covered table which tilted on uneven legs. Miniature screw-top bottles of blush wine waited beside chipped crystal wine glasses. Covered in foil, well-worn Wedgwood china held tonight’s special of processed turkey with instant mashed potatoes. The scent of lavender bath salts and Ben-Gay wafted through the air and Frank Sinatra crooned softly on a cassette player.
The door swooshed open. Giggling, a petite woman in her golden years tiptoed in leading a gentleman by the arm.
“What is this, Delores?” the man asked loudly, confusion in his eyes.
“Shhh, someone will hear us and I’ll be in big trouble,” the woman whispered.
"Where are we?"
Delores knitted her eyebrows lightly and patted his cheek. “Sammy, we’re in my room. Remember we talked about this yesterday. I’ve spent all day preparing. Now we’ll have our private dinner, and then who knows what may happen?” She giggled again, like the young girl she once was, took his hand, and led him to a seat at the table.
“I smuggled our dinner in earlier. We have wine, and I remembered your favorite dessert.” Delores unscrewed the caps and poured two glasses of wine.
Sammy and Delores leisurely consumed their dinner, provided courtesy of the Sunset Elderly Living Facility, savoring each bite and saving the chocolate pudding cups for last. Within thirty minutes of finishing their desserts, Delores and Sammy were in the throes of passion. Delores attributed the shortness of breath, ringing in her ears and light headed feeling to Sammy's manliness. In fifty-five years of marriage, she never experienced those sensations with her late husband.
Less than an hour after Sammy succumbed to her charms, he was dead of an apparent heart attack, courtesy of the little blue pill someone had slipped in their pudding cups.
ɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤɤ
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