Martini Club 4 – The 1920s
Amanda McCabe, Alicia Dean, Kathy L Wheeler and Krysta Scott have a unique friendship. Yes, they are all romance writers, and at different stages in their writing careers. But every Friday night, schedules permitting, they meet at the Martini Lounge in Edmond, Oklahoma where they chitchat, plan retreats to get away and for just a general get away. Over a period of time the idea to create a series of stories where the Martini Lounge would serve as a backdrop—well, as writers, that was inevitable. So here we are with our first go at it. Welcome to 1920s New York City where four young women run away from England excited to make their own way in a new world.
All four stories are now available for the pre-order price of **$0.99** until February 26, 2015, the official release.
Rebellious: Martini Club 4 Series – The 1920s
“Do you smell that, Meggie?” Jessica Hatton cried as she leaned into the cold, salt spray wind, her t-strap shoes perched on the lowest rung of the ship's railing. She'd lost her hat, and the short strands of her hair blew into her eyes, but she didn't care. England was far behind them. They had escaped.
“It smells like freedom!” she shouted, and threw up her arms. It felt like she could fly all the way to America.
“I only smell old fish,” Meggie said. “Now come down from there, Jess. If you tumble into the drink, it will all be over before it even starts.”
Jessica laughed and shook her head, but she did climb down. She spun around to see Meggie stretched out on one of the deck chairs, the glossy mink collar of her coat drawn close around her.
The sky was grey and dismal-looking, the water not as glassy-smooth as when they slid past Ireland yesterday and headed out to open sea. Several of the passengers had retreated to their cabins, but Jessica couldn't stand staying inside. Not when there was so much to be seen.
“It smells like fish and freedom,” Jessica insisted. “But we can go in now. Maybe Charlotte and Eliza will want to play some cards or mah-jong.”
“Finally,” Meggie grumbled as she swung her feet down to the damp deck. But her smile was broad. Jessica knew Meggie was loving it all just as much as she was.
Meggie launched herself from her hiding place and threw her arms about Harry’s neck. Locked in his muscular embrace, she rested her chin on his shoulder. His arms tightened around her. “Oh, Harry. I came as fast as I could. Just as we’d planned.” The words, she’d intended to carry, came out breathless.
“Fast, huh?” The whisper was against her ear where no one else could hear, raised goose prickles over her entire body. “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.” He lifted his head. “What are you doing with my girl, Joe?”
Joey’s hands flew into the air, indicating his surrender. “Sorry, Dempsey. Had no idea she was anyone’s quiff—”
was born in Presque Isle, Maine. How she ended up in Texas, then Oklahoma is as much a mystery to her as anyone. She graduated from the University of Central Oklahoma with a BA in Management Information Systems and a minor in Vocal Music.
Long thin fingers curled around a glass and lifted it from the tray. Charli followed the direction of the drink. Derrick Chaunce, or as the local duffs referred to him, “Slick”, grinned, exposing yellowed teeth.
“You … You…” Her throat closed. The rest of her diatribe wouldn’t budge.
He winked. His thin hair slicked back in the latest fashion exaggerated the gaunt cheekbones and sunken eyes, tinging him with an unhealthy, dilapidated look. He gulped the whiskey. A bit of the amber liquid escaped through the gap in his teeth and down his chin. Her stomach lurched.
“Thank you, sweet cakes. Put it on my tab.” He skulked off.
Charli whirled around. How did the bounder get past Tiny? Ira fumed about customers who ran up a high tab without reconciling at the end of the night. Now she would have to explain yet another charge added to Slick’s mounting debt. She sighed and rolled her eyes to the heavens. The customer was always right. Even when they were wrong.
Contact info: http://krystascottauthor.com