"Over My Head" - (Contemporary Romance) Devotion Comes With A Price by A.H. Scott

A Husband's Secret Is A Silk Gamble...

...A Wife Is Left Holding A Sows Purse...


Lawrence Chase owed a debt. His wife, Angela, took a gamble. Pity for both, that losing a few dollars would be nothing compared to higher stakes in their marriage.

What begins as a bargain of assisting a spouse with a problem, takes a woman down a rocky road of self reflection, desire and unraveling a secret from the past.

Go "Over My Head" with A.H. Scott!

Looking at a portrait of a man and wife, the fractures of a marriage aren't easily seen. Smile and supportive caress hide the barren wasteland of a relationship.

They were a happy couple once. With fresh air and laughter. Chuckles fade. Gone is the optimism of youthful exuberance.

Blissful petals have withered on the vine of time

Symbol of an affair is permanently erased.

A wife, who has acted upon her own desires, has taken a carefree step into a world she never expected would come at the end of fate's rainbow.


She is a woman who exists amongst four joined stages of life's square. Exploration is the first angle. Love comes as the second turn of degrees. Passion takes third angle. Obligation is that fourth angle of completing the cube of this female's world.


Lace cradles creamy flesh. Yet, warts of a soul's disfigurement can never be truly obscured.


A husband's secret is the cornerstone of events, which lead to triumph and tragedy in a shortest span of time.


Veiled agendas beneath soft kisses are bitter in daylight's exposure, as intrusions of many forms take several by surprise.


Man of varied lies and devilish alibis has snaked his way into the lives of this couple. Certain word of support or smile of comfort had the effect of making all the difference in gaining entry into another's life.

Before either knows it, they are submerged in something beyond their control.

For what was a frivolous flirtation, became a shower of a heart's hidden obsession onto a floor of doom's dance.

It leads to that moment of culmination's wondering by this wandering wife to staying afloat in a marriage's rickety vessel of distress or forever being "Over My Head".

Eau Claire society had never been plagued with such a scandal.

An affair that had begun under less than pleasant circumstances, unraveled into a hazy sunset of sorrow for Angela, Nicholas and Lawrence.

The Chases' marriage had a ribbon of secrets and lies that each held closed to the other. Lawrence's lies led Angela to harbor secrets of her own to him.

In some ways, actions by her husband propelled this dutiful wife into the arms of another man.

No one gets out of this life without paying a price.

Singular event on a sexually charged night with Angela Chase at it's core, turns from a bubblegum pop song of simplicity into a Wagnerian symphony of doom within the pages of "Over My Head".


"OVER MY HEAD" DESCRIPTION :

Lies and secrets are like molecules of fat. They always rise to the surface.

In the swirling stew of seduction, two persons draw a wife into a web of corruption and condemnation. First of which is her husband, who harbors a secret that she has found out about. Secondly, a man whose intentions towards her have been well known for many years.

Her husband's secret is bound to a lie that the an acquaintance uses to his own benefit. This wife decides to take a gamble of her own, which leads to places that unseen consequences roam.

"Over My Head" is a contemporary romance, filled with smothered aspirations, smoldering sparks, and an explosive conclusion.

Woman at the heart of this novel is Angela Chase. Sexy brunette with a pouting sense of privilege, she always has been spoiled by her tycoon father.

Sometimes a spoiled child becomes a brat that thinks the world should bow down to her. For Angie, she'd enjoyed having her stocking clad knees onto a floor also.

Angela Chase may have been a married woman, but she was far from a shrinking violet on passion's scale. Tiny fractures of her relationship to Lawrence Chase began widdling away at this woman's self esteem.

Neglecting Angela was Lawrence's first sin. Racing into second place behind neglect, came an act of omission.

Events in the lives of the Chases could have taken such a different road, if only a husband told his wife the entire truth about a secret he'd been holding.

Alas, what Lawrence Chase set in motion, Angela Chase would barter with in skin of perfumed lotion.

Desire can take us to places that the heart can never capture. A simple hand out to a stranger can be all that a lonely person could ever need. Even if it were from someone you never thought would be a part of your life. In this tale of crimson conclusions and titillation's triumph, only a single notion of being submerged in an ocean of delights is whispered into a longing soul's ear.

Shall my world remain one of mendacity or should I go, "Over My Head".

"Over My Head" has a few twists amongst the pages, that will leave the reader wondering how did A.H. Scott make the pea vanish from beneath that obvious shell.

A wife. A husband. A lover.

Sex. Money. Power. Lies. Obsession. Murder.

That's "Over My Head". Submerge Yourself Into Seduction's Sea.

And, with that, A.H. Scott offers you an introduction to the players in her novel, "Over My Head":


OVER MY HEAD CHARACTERS:

Angela Carter Chase -
(Heiress and Lawrence Chase's wife)

Angela Carter had been given the world on a silver platter by her tycoon father, Arthur Carter. Even with that, this feisty woman was now a wife to an accountant, Lawrence Chase.

Even with that life that seemed very serene, Angela wanted more. In this case, more came in the unlikely form of a quite titillating restauratuer and businessman named Nicholas Bell.

No one gets out of this life without paying a price.

Singular event on a sexually charged night with Angela Chase at it's core, turns from a bubblegum pop song of simplicity into a Wagnerian symphony of doom within the pages of "Over My Head".

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Lawrence Chase
Accountant and Angela's husband

Lawrence Chase may not have been what Eau Claire society may have expected to be married to Angela Carter. Yet, he made his own luck in love's field. Being an accountant at Arthur Carter's business, Lawrence enjoyed the benefits of being married to the boss' daughter.

Chase may have been lucky in love, but when it came to other high stakes games, Larry was a loser. And, the person who sat in the catbird's seat of having this tender plum of information would be the last person Lawrence Chase could trust.

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Edward Longfellow -
(Lawyer and Carter family friend)


Edward Longfellow knew the law inside and out. But, his greatest asset was an ability to read people. This came from his varied clients in Eau Claire and other locations throughout Wisconsin.

Being a longtime legal counsel and friend to industrialist Arthur Carter, Edward became privy to many aspects of the Carter family goings on.

Having known Angela since she was born, Edward had been a quite protective force in her life. Certain secrets between this lawyer and young heiress would be quite catastrophic for both of their reputations, if anything were ever disclosed.


Angela Chase confided many things to Edward, which neither Arthur or Lawrence would ever know.

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Nicholas Bell -
(Businessman and Angela's lover)


Nicholas Bell was owner of a local nightspot (The Eight Ball) for many years, when he met Angela Carter. As she became Angela Chase, now restauratuer (Tulip) Bell remained a quite captivated man by this woman from afar.


Bell climbed the social ladder in Eau Claire, from the lower rungs up towards the top of that structure. Arthur Carter's nod of approval for his restaurant, proved the tide of acceptability in a higher social circle was turning in Nicholas' favor.


From a young age, Nicholas learned the best way to get ahead was to sit back and observe. And, then pounce on whatever weakness your opponent may have.


Thus, whenever he'd gotten a chance, this smart man would use information his own benefit. Be it in the form of a digits' ascendency or cradling of perfumed skin.


Timing was everything and Bell took full advantage of that fateful factor.

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Arthur Carter -
(Tycoon and Angela's father)


Some businessman try to pretend to be something that they are not. This was not the case for a mid-Western industrialist. Arthur Carter was an arrogant man. That is a statement of fact. He never tried to runaway from who he was or how he amassed his vast fortune.

Steel was the ticket to Arthur's fortune. And, it also was the will he had to make his business a success in Wisconsin.

This was something that he'd passed down to his daughter, Angela. She'd thrived under that armor of his arrogance to her own detriment at the moment.

Arthur Carter was always fair in business. But, no one would ever be shocked if he had taken an invisible razor from his tailored suit pocket in the boardroom.

Money became a sheilding column of bricks to the real world. But, there always were fissures in that seemingly solid wall that the rich built around themselves.

----------------------

Gennaro Esposito -
(NB Auto Repair manager and Bell's friend)

Primarily, Gennaro Esposito was a longtime friend of Nicholas Bell. Manager of Bell's auto repair business, Esposito enjoyed similar interests of pleasure as Nicholas.

Gennaro shared many a secret with his socially ascending friend in Eau Claire.


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Iris Mendoza -
(The Cat's Paw Tattoo Parlor owner and Bell's friend)


Secondly, Iris Mendoza was also a friend to Nicholas Bell. Owner of a local tattoo parlor, Iris and Bell shared many a laugh and drink together.


Mendoza may have seemed like an unlikely ally to Bell. But, each of them knew the power of association.


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Archie Hamilton -
(Bartender at The Eight Ball & Part-Time Tulip Restaurant manager)


Archie Hamilton was a man who knew all the key players in this drama. From a previous position working for Arthur Carter, to the present day employment at two of Nicholas Bell's businesses, Archie Hamilton had a faint finger on the pulse of the main characters in this novel.

Working as a bartender at that nightspot and a part-time manager at the swanky restaurant, Archie didn't have much free time to dream of a better life for himself and his family.

Yet, this man of multiple obligations did just that.

-----------------------------------


Madeline Hamilton -
(Physical therapist and Archie Hamilton's wife)


Physical therapist Madeline Hamilton worked at the local hospital. Wife to Archie and mother of two young sons, Madeline had a quite pleasant existence in Eau Claire.


Madeline's world was her family. And, even with any flaws that were behind closed doors, she would do anything to protect and love her husband, Archie.


The Hamilton's marriage may not have been sparkling. But, they were a union of stability with their two sons.


--------------------------------


Julius Baxter -
(Wisconsin court Judge)


Julius Baxter was an Eau Claire County Judge that had played a part in the lives of three of the other main characters. He knew the Carter family and Edward Longfellow had stood before him at the judicial bar.


Restraint was never truly Julius' strong point. And, one of the other characters in this juicy novel feels the brunt of his ever increasing ego.


Judge Baxter was an ambitious man, as time would prove him to rise to the head of Wisconsin's Supreme Court.


---------------------------


Ann Marshall Baxter -
(Socialite and Julius' wife)


Ann Marshall Baxter was not only the wife of Judge Julius Baxter, but thrived as a socialite in Wisconsin society. Ann wasn't a wife who bit her tongue in criticizing a spouse.


In fact, it may have been Ann's ballbusting of Julius that prompted the rise of this mid-level judge on the Eau Claire County circuit.


Ann knew that behind her powerful husband, remained a woman of charm and elegance, who wasn't above twisting a few arms in maintaining their place on that platinum peak of society.



---------------------------

Darlene Morrissey -
(Tulip restaurant waitress)


Darlene Morrissey had known Angela Carter in their years at the local Catholic high school together. Morrissey hadn't the fortune to have a rich father provide for a smooth existence for her, such as Angela had.


From Darlene's point of view towards Angela, envy smoldered within this woman who saw her own dreams of a better life doused by choices she made in years past.


So, she became a waitress at a local, high end restaurant.


Looking at them on the surface, both women were as different as a crepe and poundcake. Alas, scrape away the fluffy finery of a father's wealth and the world would realize both women were equal halves of a whole.


Beneath Angela's silk and Darlene's polyester, both had many things in common. This included a layered relationship with Nicholas Bell.


Explore the world of A.H. Scott's "Over My Head' in this extended excerpt:

EXCERPT -


FIRST CHAPTER EXCERPT DESCRIPTION - Lawrence Chase has a problem. Angela Chase does not know about it yet. So, the question that arises is; how does this husband keep this secret from his loving wife?


FIRST CHAPTER ONLY

EXCERPT -

Over My Head
by
A.H. Scott



Chapter



Lawrence Chase felt himself lucky. A good job and great wife were all signs of fortune. Married to his employer's daughter, his future seemed brighter than a thousand stars. Angela Carter's passion and spirit filled him with overwhelming joy. Larry found a gem in Angie.

With light temperament and coy smile, Angela had a varied effect on every man she came in contact with. Angela's own sense of fortune, was reflected in being adored by all the men in her life. From her husband to her father, she had the persuasive gift in wrapping each of them around her manicured finger.

Yet, even with the ease of the feminine power that Angela Chase had, her husband Larry waltzed with a mistress that no spouse would ever compete with.

Lawrence's luck began to slip with every losing hand from a blackjack table at the Rabbit's Foot in 1979.

Beneath the shimmering surface of the Chases' relationship, there existed jagged shards that pricked away at the portrait of marital tranquility.

Doubts and misgivings that had been locked away in internal silence within husband and wife, suddenly began to sound once again with the jangling keys of secrets and lies.


For Lawrence, he thought staying on top of his losses at the Rabbit's Foot and a few other locations around the state, would be a secret that would be easy to keep from his wife. But, he knew in the back of his mind, that Angela would be the precious petal being betrayed by a spouse whose ego had gotten the best of him when the truth came out.

As for Angela, there were the lies that she told herself about Larry not gambling anymore. But, beyond the financial storm that had begun to swirl around her world, there remained something far more destructive than a husband's rising debt.

It was something that neither of them wanted to face head on or speak of. But, a lie of the heart would never stay buried forever.

Alas, life wasn't as placid as this couple would have wished it to be.

During a period within the first two months of their marriage in 1975, Larry's gambling debts became an accepted burden which Angie paid off. Like any other loving spouse, she wanted to help her husband with any complications that arose. Pulling Lawrence's neck out of that financial noose, Angela sold several savings bonds.

Pity this husband didn't learn his lesson back then in those blossoming days of marital bliss.

One thing that Larry didn't want to do at this present time in 1979, was to go to his wife for those funds as in prior days of their marriage in 1975 for the sum of thirty-five thousand dollars.

At an unlicensed gambling establishment off Highway 44 and 49 in Fairwater, Wisconsin, Larry's debts began to rise with several digits. He knew this reality couldn't be placed on his beloved Angie's subtle shoulders.

The Rabbit's Foot seemed an unlikely place for him to stand on that tightrope of self-destruction. Yet, there Lawrence Chase was on a June night in 1979.

Rommoulus Thorne, manager and owner of The Rabbit's Foot had physical similarities to film noir actor Sydney Greenstreet. His large frame and commanding presence intimidated many unfortunate patrons in this Fairwater gambling establishment.

One person who was on that descending scale of favor was seated at the blackjack table.

June 19th seemed like any other night at the Rabbit's Foot for this regular patron. Man who sat at the table was a slightly anxious businessman from Eau Claire, dressed in tan suit with a white shirt and black tie. Hand after hand of cards coming up short to the number twenty-one, was making him begin to squirm in of the red chairs seated around the black gaming table.

Thorne and two of his employees stood near a column nearby the blackjack table, watching the spectacle of lost bets by this single man seated there.

Born Rafik-el Rommoulus Talami, this Turkish native had been in the United States since the late 1950's. After changing his name to the more innocuous Thorne, from a trip to the Thorne Market in Fond du Lac, Rommoulus began a new life of prosperity.

Having had prior visa problems that led to a sizable fine by the IRS, Rommoulus was blocked from a full licensing of the Rabbit's Foot in 1966. Without the liquor license needed for full expansion of his business, The Rabbit's Foot would always remain on the shady side of the gambling world.

The last thing that Rommoulus Thorne needed was a blackjack table that had little to no action occurring around it. Thorne made a decision to talk to the seated patron.

Six words that no gambler ever wanted to hear came from Rommoulus Thorne, "The table is closed to you".

"Listen, just one more bet" ,pant of urgency rolled from Larry's lips, as two cards rested upon that dark green velour table top, "I've got a good feeling about this next one".

Thorne placed his hand onto the blackjack table, as fingers tapped the two cards that were just dealt to this man by the dealer, "Larry" ,Rommoulus nodded to the dealer and the neatly dressed croupier walked away from that table slowly.

Lawrence Chase had taken many an evening sojourn East on I-94 from Eau Claire to Fairwater and saw no reason to exit early.

Childish petulance came over Larry, has he wished to stay at that blackjack table, "No" ,raising voice to a level pitch where several other patrons gazed at him, Chase lowered his voice and smiled, "I want to continue".

With a diplomatic flair, Rommoulus Thorne bent over slightly and whispered downward to Chase's left ear, "Don't make a scene, Chase" ,not wanting their business to be known by anyone else on the gaming floor of the Rabbit's Foot, "I want you to stand up and come with me".

Dejected at not having a winning hand at the moment, Lawrence Chase stood and began to walk with Thorne and two other men behind him, "I just don't know what went wrong" ,shaking his head in disbelief at the possibility of a losing streak washing over him, he added "I was up 50".

The quartet walked across the gaming floor and towards the back of the building, where some offices were located. Pair of other males stopped a few feet from the last office in the rear and waited for further instructions from Thorne.

Ambling through his office door, Rommoulus waved him inside and closed the door behind them, "And, now you're down 250" ,Thorne pointed to a straight-back, black leather chair, "Sit down, Larry, we need to talk".

Slightly agitated by the owner's request, Larry sat down and sputtered, "I've got to get back out there" ,almost feeling that itch of the gambling bug nibbling at his essence, Chase gently squirmed in that leather chair.

Fairwater business owner laid this client's digits bare to him, "Lawrence, you owe the house 250" ,Thorne took the patron's history into account, "Now, I let your credit get that high, because in the past whenever you owed a large chunk it was paid back quite quickly".

Alas, for Rommoulus Thorne, past performances were negligible.
Scratching head at the thought of that debt dangling above his head, Larry exhaled with a hint of desperation, "Well, that sum might not be so easy to come up with".

"This is why you are in here" ,Rommoulus inhaled deeply and dropped a verbal bomb on Chase, "The door will not let you in anymore".

"But, I-" ,Chase paused and thought of all the times he'd been in the Rabbit's Foot over many months, "I've been a good customer to you".

Thorne chuckled at the optimistic fortitude that Chase tossed his way, "Good? Well, that's debatable" ,getting right to the core of why Larry was in that office, "Your losses outweigh your winnings".

"You know me, I'm good for it" ,Chase made no bones in the past to Thorne about who his employer was in Eau Claire. And, at this point in the waning night, he was going to use any ace of remaining at the Rabbit's Foot that was available to him.

Maybe, Carter Manufacturing Corporation held weight in Eau Claire's financial spreadsheets. Yet, in the back room of an unlicensed gambling operation in Fairwater, the only weight that mattered was Rommoulus'.

"The house can no longer cover your credit" ,Thorne rested large frame against sturdy structure and folded arms, "You are no longer welcome here".

The Rabbit's Foot's owner laid out the reality of what was happening that June night to this faltering card player, without frills or puffery.

Lawrence Chase was fitting the mold of the gambler that could see a winning hand just over the horizon. Yet, was unwilling to just give up his place at the gaming table, "I'm just having a bad streak, that's all. It will pick up soon".

"I'm sorry, Larry" ,slowly he walked behind his black Lucite desk, pulled a single paper from its drawer and placed it next to a gold ballpoint pen, "I need you to sign this note for the 250".

Lawrence Chase signed the paper quickly, thinking that he'd be able to get in a few more hands of blackjack before leaving for that night, "Now, what?"

Adorned n a light colored suit, Thorne spoke, "Don't be the rabbit, Larry", smirking at the thought of how unlucky that foot was for the hare, another bewildered beast came to this elder male's mind, "Or, in this case, the ostrich".

Larry's luck became a figment of his own ego. Being a gimpy bunny was one thing of misfortune. He could outride the losses in future months. Alas, turning into that flightless bird that didn't realize the depths of financial loss Chase actually was in, transformed into a shame that not even his wife would be told of.

Blindsided by these events in the Rabbit's Foot, he was a bit baffled with that comparison, "I don't understand".

As a man who'd known the bitter brew of revenge from his youth in Turkey, Rommoulus ruminated to Larry, "In my country, when a man doesn't pay his debts, the dawn never rises for him ever again" ,for the present moment, a tempered reaction was needed, "But, then again, Mr. Chase, this isn't my country. It's yours".

Wanting to wash Chase out of his hair, Thorne made a decision of what should be done with this unfortunate gambler. Larry had come to the end of the line.

Rommoulus walked to the door and motioned for two of his employees to enter the office. No violence would ever come from this Turk on the American shores. A dismissal of this losing patron was best for all involved, as he spoke to a pair of men, "Please, show Mr. Chase outside".

Motioning out of the chair, Larry muttered, "Are you throwing me out?" ,almost unable to believe that his time could ever be up at the Rabbit's Foot, Chase shrugged and gazed at Thorne and this pair.

One man in his mid-30's had a slim build with a dark suit on. As for the other person, he was a tall Nordic blond in his early-40's. Larry had seen them around the Rabbit's Foot many times and knew what their duties were. Sad for him, they would be acting upon throwing out the unpaying trash of this evening.

"No, no, no" ,Rommoulus Thorne became amused at this circumstance of Chase, "Think of this as a final escort" ,right hand waved Larry away, "Hope your luck changes soon, Larry" ,letting out a sigh of relief, "Good night".

To some, the stuff that dreams were made of were seen as an elusive black bird, while others viewed it as a shaky hand holding a wad of crumpled dollar bills. The latter remained foremost in Thorne's mind.

Life wasn't a motion picture in the mold of John Huston's 1941 classic. But, the similarities between fiction and reality had those moments of clarity. And, this for Rommoulus Thorne and a departing Lawrence Chase transformed into one of them.

Not giving up on his chase for recapturing any prior luck at the table, Chase walked through the gaming floor towards the front entrance with the pair of men, "Fellas, just one more round?"

Slim man in dark brown suit placed a hand on Larry's back, while giving him a slight push outside the doors, "Sorry, Larry".

"Take care of yourself, Chase" ,Tall man with slicked back blond hair stood by that open door and shook Lawrence's hand for the final time, "Good night".

Walking out into the moonlight alone, he walked to his car quickly. Chase became a scattered soul, while entering the Volvo and opening the glove compartment. Grasping a handful of objects and tossing them onto the passenger seat, Larry began flipping through several bank books in a frantic search for funds. Taking a notepad and pen from the open glove compartment, he began scribbling down several numbers onto paper. From seven different bank accounts, the total cash that was available to him at that late moment of June 19th was only forty-five thousand dollars to pay the house back with.

Ironically, it was conversation during a fishing trip with friends on Beechwood Lake that originally led him to Marigold Isle Casino for a few spins of a roulette wheel. Locals at that casino in Beechwood, were actually the ones who pointed him from Sheboygan and into the direction of Fairwater's gambling Mecca of the Rabbit's Foot.

For Lawrence Chase, that lucky symbol of a rabbit's foot seemed as unlucky for the hare as it was to his own fractured financial horizon.

Three weeks after that dismissal in Fairwater, several markers of various denominations were brought up by an Eau Claire resident. It would be that being, who would hold several former Wisconsin clients' monetary future from the Rabbit's Foot. One of which, was Lawrence Chase.

As three men sat inside an Eau Claire location on July 17th, a small pile of yellow papers were stacked in the middle of a tan colored table.

Male of caramel hue spoke to another next to him, "It's 250, right?", scribbling black ink onto white paper.

Second man nodded, "Yep".

With pen in hand, he held paper upward for the second male to respond, "Are you sure you want to keep this marker?"

"As I live and breathe", looking at that item in his friend's hand, he laughed.

Dark eyes and baldhead, gave the third man a striking appearance, "Well, the air is expensive in Eau Claire".

Man seated in the middle acknowledged that fact, "As are the ladies, Iris".

The location was the Eight Ball. Gennaro Esposito held the pen and papers, while follicle challenged; Iris Mendoza sat to the far left of the second male. And, the owner of this business, Nicholas Bell, remained the contemplative core of this trio.

For an astute acquirer of information and debts, Nicholas Bell polished those coins of cache.

He knew that someday his investment in time and treasury would bear flourishing fruit. Maybe for Bell, someday might be just across the horizon of destiny.

Unlucky person that owed that sum was Lawrence Chase.

Eau Claire lawyer, Edward Longfellow had several clients that were connected to Marigold Isle Casino in Beechwood. During a conversation with one of them, the name Chase came up. As if it were a bell ringing in his ears, Longfellow was set off on a mission to find out more. From Beechwood, a little legwork led him to the Rabbit's Foot in Fairwater.

Lawyer Longfellow wasn't just an unknown entity to Lawrence Chase. He had a connection to Larry, because of his business and personal ties to Angela's father, Arthur Carter.

Eddie finding out about the monetary mess that Larry had gotten himself into, led him to think about Angie being hurt by her husband's actions.

An unpleasant task of giving Angela Chasse the grim news about her husband, was complicated by Edward knowing who owned that hefty marker.

There were two paths of existence in Eau Claire .One, which Arthur and Angela Carter Chase glided along a silken road. Two, was Nicholas Bell and his compatriots maneuvering a more gritty path. For Edward, it was this factor that made something simple suddenly complex.

Far more than just corporation counsel for Carter Manufacturing Corporation, Edward Longfellow had dual alliances with both Carters. Both professionally and socially. Second of which, were events that occurred a year after his longtime friend's daughter had gotten into some knotty legal problems.

Coincidently, the aforementioned community service that the college graduate was sentenced to didn't turn out as she expected.

Angela had a secret of her own.



- FIRST CHAPTER ONLY

- END OF EXCERPT


Behind the doors of the wealthy, there's always something stirring...;)




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"Rack Em" - A Romantic Thriller by A.H. Scott

Romance is beyond the bounds of time.....

...Yet, so is mankind's avarice..!!


Eirelander Publishing Presents A Novel By Author A.H. Scott


What do you hold most dear? Pride or treasure?

Something, which is searched high and low for, could have always existed within us all.

Liquidator in fine fabric is woven amongst the glittering class of international buyers and sellers of collectible oddities.

Any ability to afford anything money can purchase, gives a certain power that keeps them in a heightened state of eternal inebriation.

That unseen suspect is right in front of everyone's eyes, but not known until it's too late.

Bobbles of bliss from two fated lovers of centuries earlier bring together varied egos into the life of a Vancouver antiques dealer. Price paid by some for these treasures, would be higher than the heavens.

Necessity makes many things necessary. In the end, all which may seem only business will forever be tied to the personal.

A woman and a man, who were strangers and adversaries in this arena, become bound in each other’s arms and hearts.

Exposure of motive and murderer brings forth a climactic conclusion on the rooftop of a Vancouver location.

"Rack Em" is a contemporary romance with hints of mystery and thrills woven throughout it's pages. A.H. Scott invites you into the world of diamond lives and crimson lies. I give you, "Rack Em".

Captivating treasures from centuries prior has led many on a desperate sojourn to a Vancouver auction house. They all want their hands on these prized possessions of a passionate pair of lovers from long ago. Yet, some of the buyers have tricks of temptation up their silky sleeves.

When lust mixes with greed, the ball of the unknown is tossed across the billiard table of hidden agendas.


Take a scintillating excursion into the arena of international auctions, with sellers and buyers who trade trinkets, winks and nefarious agendas from around the globe.

Captivating treasures from centuries prior have led many on a desperate sojourn to a Vancouver auction house. They all want their hands on these prized possessions of a passionate pair of lovers from long ago. Yet, some of the buyers have tricks of temptation up their silky sleeves.

When lust mixes with greed are just one of the balls that roll across the felt table of "Rack Em".

Become acquainted with the characters of "Rack Em":

Arlington Cross - Vancouver antiques dealer and owner of Cross Collectibles and recipient of a package from the deceased elder female in France. He is a man under the faulty impression that making a move from the United States to Canada would make his life more simplistic. Little could Arlington Cross ever imagine how complex an antique auction would be.
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Pao Tse-Ling - Chief of acquisitions for a Chinese antique house. Sent has been on a journey to Canada for a simple purchase during an upcoming auction at Cross Collectibles. Not just any items would bring this female across the world to North America. These are treasures that Tse-Ling and her employer have been quite interested in for many years. Little did she think any danger would exist at a humble location in Vancouver.
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Jaqueline Niemann – Elegant woman of French charm, who has seen her share of fluctuating history. Prized package sent to a Vancouver dealer of antiques, is her final act of altruism. The treasure all have sought flows from her dainty fingertips.
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Maxtina Sammprino – bold blonde from Italy, who enjoys the chase and capture of precious fare from days gone by. She is a woman with a thirst for fulfillment, which goes beyond marble boardrooms of the international jet set. Spicy and sassy, Sammprino takes the bull of chauvinism by the horns.
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Turina Karrelli– Italian purchaser of arousing artifacts from around the world. Brunette on a tracking mission of priceless goods has always been fond of caring for the wounded. This includes her fellow Italian associate. Cunning and curvaceous Karrelli has ability to accentuate her assets to gain a positive result.
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Freiderich Rothsberger– Art collector and dealer from Austria, who thinks the best years of his negotiating the big purchase, is winding to the end of success’ road. Chubby cheeks and a hearty laugh of this man have been used as the ultimate mask of constantly being brushed off by opponents.
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Anzo Ninzionni – Purchaser of varied collectibles from around the world, has an eye out for the ladies and something beyond platinum. His journey has taken him from solitude into an arena of being in the company of lust and financial flourish. Bidding on those gilded goods would be a moment that could take him from anonymity onto a higher plateau of notoriety.
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Isaac Moss – Peacock without apology is who this man is. Shining star of an African corporation has his sights set on a timeless trinket of temptation. Fine clothes, finer women, are this arrogant achiever’s hallmark accomplishing his set goals.

RACK EM DESCRIPTION -

Murder in a small French village of a grand dame of collectibles, leads to the doorstep of a Vancouver auction house. A harried, antiques dealer is the man under an added level of pressure, with prospective buyers from around the globe clawing for the heralded goods at an upcoming auction.

Pair of bodacious Italian belles and a woman of gentle grace from China proved to be something extra this unsusupecting man in Vancouver. As for their male counterparts from Austria, Spain and South Africa, they had a harder task at hand.

Each had been given their marching orders to a victorious capture of those items, no matter what it took to get their financially flushed fingers on them.

Curled lash and perfumed flesh seemed to have more entrees into this antique dealer's life, than smoking a stogie with a member of the same sex.

Seduction's game is about to break.

Question is; can a man fight temptation or join in?

Only one move is left to make. Sexy voice whispers into an awaiting eager ear, "Rack Em".


RACK EM EXCERPT -

Prologue & Chapter One

Prologue

Romance is beyond the bounds of time.

Three years after Giacomo Casanova's release from Paris' Fort-l'Eveque in 1758, a nonchalant conversation between the prison's warden and a guard was overheard.

A 16-year-old jail cleaner, Pepon Larionne, was in the process of collecting garbage in the hallway outside of Lieutenant Hugo Arrieyenne's office, while the warden and longtime prison guard, Edgar DeSaviage continued speaking to each other inside.

Pepon was one of three men who had the task of cleaning the warden's office, guard tower, and guard barracks. This night, it was Larionne's job to handle the outer hallway, which led to Lieutenant Arrieyenne's office. The other two jail cleaners had already started going towards the barracks. This young man, who seemed an unlikely vessel of history, became Cupid's messenger.

It was at this moment in 1761, when Pepon's fate changed for the better. Lieutenant Arrieyenne spoke to Edgar DeSaviage about Casanova's imprisonment and release in 1758. Manon Balletti, one of Giacomo Casanova's great loves, procured his freedom with a pair of diamond earrings in 1758.

The fabled lover had received mercy from a long prison sentence at the bequest of a beautiful woman. And, this is the story which followed through the years.

Preparing his office for the cleaners, Lieutenant Hugo Arrieyenne and guard Edgar DeSaviage emptied out desk drawers onto the floor, revealing several varied sized items, including a small canvas satchel.

As Pepon entered the warden's office, he kept his head low and mouth shut in their presence. The lowly jail cleaner scooped up bits of food, papers, and that canvas satchel with his hands.

The warden and guard stood chuckling at the dirty work which Pepon had to accomplish as they turned their backs on him and went back to speaking about Casanova and the diamond earrings.

Finishing up the cleaning of Arrieyenne's office, Pepon excused himself and grasped a large canvas sack full of garbage. In the hallway outside of the office, another large sack of trash was gathered by Larionne. Pulling the sacks behind him, Pepon left through the lantern lit prison entrance.

Larionne joined up with his fellow jail cleaners in the courtyard near the guard barracks. He never told the others about the tale of Casanova and Manon Balletti's connection to Fort-l'Eveque. Yet, it remained in the back of his mind, while taking his share of the sacks of garbage down towards an incline to be dumped.

Something that the warden and guard didn't realize when tossing out the desk contents onto the floor was the small satchel that contained those precious items of devotion from Manon to the previous prison warden.

What had been tossed out amongst spoiled food, soiled sheets and vomit, were the pair of diamond earrings. Pepon was also unaware of the situation, until shaking the canvas sack empty. A final item remained in the bottom of the sack. As the satchel revealed its contents, Larionne's eyes were affixed on a pair of earrings, a pen, and a slip of fabric as the satchel revealed its contents.

The simple man of bare means retrieved the trio of items and silently finished his duties for the night. His fellow cleaners were none the wiser for Pepon Larionne's fantastic find.

A conversation which he'd overheard from Arrieyenne and DeSaviage was not just a myth. But a reality, which was now wrapped in a dingy cloth with spots of mucus against Pepon Larionne's body.

The items weren't contained in a satin lined mahogany box to be delivered to a royal consort. But, they were transported within a filthy, loosened blouse of a lowly peasant.

Returning to his small cottage Pepon placed small sack into maple table. Alongside those earrings of Manon, a quill pen and square of lace were laid out by Pepon. The peacock feathers gave Pepon visions of Manon and Casanova's tandem pen craft. Just to imagine what each would place to paper remained more than enough for this the young man's imagination. The slight scent of lavender remained upon that lace.

Night turned to morn as he left the cottage for a short journey.

Pepon Larionne's only thoughts were to give this newly found gift to his beloved Vivienne Coupette. The sixteen-year old woman with a gentle smile was the core of Pepon's undying devotion. Maybe some of the herald grace of Manon and Casanova's love would rub off on Pepon Larionne.

The prison jail cleaner would never be King of France. But as he presented the diamond earrings, quill pen, and sliver of lace to the lady he loved, Pepon Larionne would be forever the prince of Vivienne's heart.

Vivienne became his wife later that month. Their son Laurenz married Orlean Capelli at age 33. Grandson Charles Larionne took Charlotte Pantille as a bride in 1820. Charles' child Phillippe and his wife Ilese van Sharpone had Arielle in 1850. During childbirth, Phillippe Larionne became a widower and single father. Raising Arielle alone for many years he married a childhood friend of Ilese van Sharpone Marcellon Borneau.

1875 became a year of retelling this tale of overwhelming devotion. As 25-year-old Arielle came upon a small music box with those items stuffed into a false bottom, Phillippe retold that tale of his ancestor Pepon Larionne's unimaginable luck and Casanova's exciting entanglements.

33-year-old Arielle married Henri Rausch in 1883.Those next decades of division and destruction in Europe led Bertrand Rausch to move with his wife Sophie Devayne in 1943. Relocating to a town near French wine country Quimper was a good place to begin their lives together. Northwest of Bordeaux they opened a small bistro called Arielle's. Three years later Thomas was born in 1946.

For Thomas Rausch, life in Quimper seemed smaller than the large vista he saw himself in. At age 36, Thomas was in charge of Arielle's. With debt collectors hounding and bills mounting, Henri Rausch's grandson began slipping off a tightrope of gourmet platters and financial reality.

Still single in 1981, he existed as a man with little to show for his life. Alas, memories of grandmother Arielle's cherished belongings of beatitude brought an idea forth.

Passing by an artist studio in Colmar, he saw a man cobbling figurines. Fiddling with those items in his jacket pocket, a possible solution washed over Thomas Rausch.

For a thick handful of francs, Eduard Niemann became owner of those three bells of beauty. Rausch was able to stave off collectors for a while longer as a tiny bistro became viable once again. For As for the artisan Niemann, he acquired an elevated essence for selling the earrings pen and slice of fabric. Ironic that it would be his idolized spouse that would come to a gloomy expiration in future years in handling history's heartache.

Beneath a bitter boot of German annexation, Metz was a most turbulent location for a young Jaqueline to bud into womanhood. Jaqueline Hurlot survived Europe's cloud of blackness during years from adolescence to early twenties. In post war years she married Eduard Niemann, a Colmar native.

Years after Eduard's death of cancer Jaqueline flourished in varied forms of sales. From private collectors to storefront visitors she made her own name in this errand of exclusivity.

During a six-month period before coming to an agreement with Cross Collectibles in Vancouver, she'd negotiated sale of those items for auction with five other entities. From Europe came three persons, and one each from Africa and China.

Calling The Little Bell in Austria, Freiderich Rothsberger passed on these gems. Although, he suggested the possibility of markets that were opening in Asia the name Flower Moon was given to her.

Taking an old friend's advice talks had begun with Flower Moon. But at that point in her career, Jaqueline was unsure about Asia's stability as always a market for this particular product.

Secondly, The Red Chair in Lucca, Italy was contacted. The Italian office located near Pisa didn't seem up to its prior reputation. Blue Coastal International in Africa would have seemed a good choice for Niemann's proposal. Yet problems in negotiations caused retreat on both ends. The White Tower might have been a pleasing choice for both she and its owner in Bilbao. Spain. Pity the timing was ill-fitted.

Oddly enough, it was Vancouver based Arlington Cross that placed a perfect bidding price and commission for Niemann. Cross Collectibles had a three and a half year worth of dealings in the past.

Jaqueline Hurlot Niemann's bank in Paris was wired a plush price for sale of a trio and fat finder's fee for herself. Items were shipped via freighter from Marseilles. The arrival date would be within 21 days.

Arlington Cross would be an opportune oracle of Manon's magical jewels, which were a golden key of amorous amends.


Chapter ONE


Vancouver's Queen Elizabeth Park was sparsely occupied by a pair of dog-walkers and small smattering of joggers that July day. These early morning risers included the proprietor of an antiques establishment, known as Cross Collectibles.

Every pounding of footstep against pavement, revealed his declining stamina.

The morning breeze blew Arlington's mixed brown and gray hair away from his bobbing face as he thought of what the day would hold forward. Yet, he couldn't resist thinking about his humble beginnings. Raised not far from the New Mexico border, he was an Andrews, Texas native. At age 3, he'd moved with his family to Orange Grove for a newly minted business in Corpus Christi.

His father, Thomas Keith Oliver Cross, or TKO as friends called him, was a man with big dreams of rubbing lanterns of fantasized luxury. Cross-Banks began with high hopes, for both TKO and partner Lincoln Banks. Oil exploration came to be the blissful bread and butter for the two families.

Meanwhile, Arlington and his younger brother Maxwell were steered on the right path, under the maternal wings of Bonnie Weatherly Cross. Thomas taught them to fish, hunt, and interact with many a ball of boyhood. Bonnie, on the other hand, taught them fairness, courtesy, pride, and mental acceleration. Both parents gave them lessons in life, which they retained to this date.

Moments of joy, youth, laughter, and familial bonding filled the Cross's three-bedroom home on 327 Carlyle Way. Alas, it all came to a stunted end with the caustic touch of cancer.

Bonnie Weatherly Cross had lost her battle with cancer when Arlington was 15 and Maxwell was 12.

Having moved to Vancouver at age 17, he and his brother were on a whirlwind adventure with their widowed father. Thomas, Arlington, and Maxwell got Cross Collectibles off the ground quite quickly. Within two years, Cross Collectibles became a moderately successful import and export antique company. The primary reason for this choice of vocation came with some local tax incentives and low overhead costs.

Thomas' sale of his half of the company to Lincoln Banks of Kimball, Nebraska, gave him enough seed money to travel north of the border. Ironically, that cash infusion for business opportunities in Vancouver remained a strike of financial genius by the elder Cross.

TKO finally decided to retire and let one of his sons run the family business. The younger brother had dreams of a life not in antiques. So, he was off the hook of export responsibility. But, Arlington Cross was filled with pride for his father handing him the reins at Collectibles.

With two sons to be proud of, TKO bought a home in Portland, Oregon. He lived quietly and happily, knowing Cross Collectibles was in good hands. Lawyer Maxwell Cross returned to Texas to take a position at one of Dallas's prestigious firms of legal thunder.

The gaze of Cross's brown eyes reminded many of sable buttons floating in the deep, warm waters of Galveston Bay. Wearing a pair of washed out gray sweats and a Texas A&M hooded sweatshirt, an attached Walkman gently bounced from a constantly moving motioning hip. Anyone looking at this man, would mistake him for an overly-ripened fraternity brother and not a respectable business owner on this July 17th.

As the final notes of the Allman Brothers', `Jessica', wound down, KVON's morning radio jock, Hugo Felipe announced the time of 7:14 over Arlington's music player. Clicking it off, Cross rummaged through his pockets to find the door key. The silver object slipped through his fingers and gently bounced off his scuffed, white Converse sneakers. Arlington bent down to retrieve the key.

"You're going to kill yourself with that running, young man," a mature female voice flowed from above him.

"Chayline?" He stood upright and took a deep breath. His lips formed a genial grin, "What doesn't kill me will make me stronger."

Fading red hair twisted beneath a gold and emerald hairpin. Chayline Vincent laughed, "But, boss, I don't want me to outlive you." She pressed an index finger against his heaving palpitating chest and pulled her purse over her left shoulder. "Besides, what would this place be without a Cross?"

Arlington unlocked the door, "Oh, it's all with a wing and a prayer. I hope it can be a bit better than Teak House." His foot pushed aside a small pile of mail, knowing its majority were always billing statements from varied vendors.

"Better than Bleak," 56-year-old Chayline remarked to him with a pun she often used in describing this building's color as in similarity to a Dickensian tome. But despite joking about that shade of brown with a hint of maroon mixed in, both knew that the financial state of Cross Collectibles was verging toward a miniature level of San Andreas. She followed him inside Cross Collectibles.

The previous trio of months had a decline in sales and customers for Cross Collectibles weekly auctions. Although there were specialty items that sold to heightened financial plateaus, the majority of those goods were like lukewarm beer. Things may be wanted as an afterthought by the public, but not needed. Gifts for grandmothers or that forgotten anniversary were the fare of Cross Collectibles.

"What time is Barris due in today, Chay?" he asked, scooping objects with both hands and tossing them onto the large reception desk. Pulling his sweatshirt off, he stood wearing a blue cotton tee and wrapped the hooded item around his waist.

"He should be here around…" She gazed at her oval wristwatch and quickly responded, "Around 9:45."

Opening windows in the rear of the building, Cross slightly grimaced at her, "That late?"

"Remember? His sister is coming in from the University of Ottawa for a visit?"

"Yeah, I guess I forgot."

"Well, are you going to change?" She walked toward him, a headmistress attitude taking over. "Or is this the odor of the day?"

Ignoring what she was speaking about, his head cocked to face her, "Um, what did you say?"

"Come on, Mr. Forgetful," she chided. Placing firm hands on his shoulders and turning him to face the bathroom down the hall, she reminded him, "We've got a busy day. And, the early bird gets the worm."

"And not smell like one, right?" Rolling blue fabric from his flesh and grabbing a clean white shirt from a closet, Cross entered the bathroom.

"What color?" she asked.

Twisting the knob, his head popped from the cracked door. He said, "Dark brown, please."

"Good choice." Chayline pulled a pair of brown pants from a silver hanger inside the closet.

His hand darted around and pulled the pants inside. "Thanks."

"You're always welcome, Arlington."

"That's why you're the best, Chayline." Dressed in starched white shirt and dark brown pants, Arlington Cross was a man ready for the hectic workday. Cross pecked Vincent his assistant on right cheek, "Thanks again."

She playfully waved him away from her. "Now, let's get down to business, sir."

Trotting into a small kitchen area, he began to make them some coffee. "Don't I know it?" After microwaving some water and tossing a packet into a cup, Cross approached her desk. "Hazelnut, ma'am. Your wish is my command."

"Darling, you make an old lady giddy." She smiled and shoved her purse into bottom right drawer of the desk. "When Barris gets here, do you want him to start on the inventory?"

"Sure. And, after he finishes, have him come up to my office." Dragging a brown box of books towards an elevator, he made sure the mail was set on top.

Sipping coffee, Chayline Vincent stood and began to prepare the first floor for business. "See you later."

As it ascended to the fourth floor of the building, the gated elevator shook slightly. The bright capsule opened and Arlington stepped onto a dark plateau. The tip of his sneaker pressed the box across from that opening. Fifteen steps to his left, he flipped a light switch on. Opening rolling doors to his office open, Cross unlocked a small cabinet in the corner. He removed a white box from that top drawer and another pair of shoes. Resting himself into a swivel chair, Arlington quickly changed from white canvas sneakers into black suede loafers.

9:15 ticked away on a black and white wall clock in Cross's office. The clanging of the elevator opening broke the silence of surveying statements and stock. "Barris, I didn't think you'd be in until almost 10."

"Yeah, I did too." Youthfully bounding over to him, he placed a large hand outward for a shake. "Good morning. And, thanks again for the time."

Eyes of dark brown and square jaw of kindness, with a frame of over six feet, there stood Barris Hart. All this 29 year old needed was a blue ox.

As he Cross began to pull papers from a cabinet, he said, "I want you to check the stocks for these items," handing Hart those items.

"Done," Organizing white and pink papers, Barris tapped them onto a desk. "Is there anything else you need right now, boss?"

Cross became playful with Hart. "If you can make some new customers appear, then I'll take you up on that offer."

"That's a good one." As he walked to the elevator, a deep chuckle came from Barris Hart's lips. "See you in a bit, Arlington."

Two hours and fifteen minutes of peace were cracked with the sound of a braking delivery truck on Heather Street. Chayline Vincent gazed above a pair of tortoise rimmed reading glasses. The white vehicle, with ten-inch black-block-lettering, read Carrington Courier Company. It listed headquarters in Toronto, with branches located in Winnipeg, Edmonton, and St. John.

Adorned in a tomato-red jacket, with a dangling nametag on the right chest pocket and navy pants, a bearded driver with a trim build began to open the van's side door. Packages and boxes were placed onto a dolly for easy transport into Cross Collectibles.

"Let me get that for you." Gently putting her glasses onto pile of invoices, she began pulling the glass doors open. Chayline waved the man inside. "Are those all for Cross?"

"Yes, ma'am." He checked a clipboard with listings of all the packages he had to deliver in Vancouver that day. "Could you sign right here?" he asked, and put the clipboard atop the dolly.

"Sure," she nodded, quickly scribbling her name on a dozen corresponding bold lines. "Can you put them over there, please?"

Reacting with a smile, he ensured her request was fulfilled in no time at all, "You have a good day, ma'am." Placing the clipboard under his right arm, he gave a friendly salute and walked towards the opened entrance.

"I will," she said as she slowly closing the glass doors behind him, Chayline played slightly with a strand of pearls. "You have the same, buddy."

The elevator opened and Arlington approached the reception area, "How many today?" "Chay,- ah,

Soft hands placed a finger on each item, "Looks like one huge one, three large ones, five medium, and two small," She almost overlooked a singular item which had been laid aside the tower by the delivery man. "And then, there's this one," she said, giving a slight shake at a six by six sized box. From the looks of it, this small one is postmarked from France.

"Who's it from?" Banging a hand onto the largest box, Cross bent down and took an opener from his pants pocket.

"I'll give Jaqueline a call later." He ripped the masking tape down the middle and quipped, "I'm surprised it got here so quick."

"Why?"

"She said that it was being shipped from over there, from when I talked to her last week." He lifted a large vase from that box. "Oh, this is beautiful." Cradling the pricey porcelain, he walked down a long hallway.

"So, what do you want to do first?"

"This vase goes first," he said, nesting the item onto a large black table in the back room, "Grab your pad, my friend."

"I'll put this one upstairs later, okay?"

"Perfect."

Tagging this item of treasure, Arlington Cross and Chayline Vincent came to a padded sales price. "When we put it in the right light… "

"It'll glow green," she interrupted.

"You are precisely on point, Mrs. Vincent."

Barris Hart exited the descended elevator. "Do you need me for anything else, Arlington?"

"What's up, Barris?"

"Can I take lunch?"

"Before you do…" He pointed at the remaining items in the corner, "Can you take those up to the storage room?"

"No problem." Cheerfully getting a rolling cart from the room down the hall, Hart began stacking packages and ascending back upstairs.

"Chayline, you can take lunch too." Working his fingers through his hair, Cross wrote a few words onto a yellow legal pad. "Business is as light as a feather."

"Thanks." Taking her purse from a drawer, Chayline made a suggestion, "Do you want me to bring you back something?"

"A sub will do fine."

"And, do you want pickles, too?"

"Oh, Chayline, you do know me well." He beat his pen against the table. "I'll hold down the fort of silence."

Vincent grasped the door and gently spoke to him. "See you in a bit, Cross."

"Thanks." Continuing to write, Arlington closed the door and sat at Chayline's cluttered desk.

Alone, this owner of a thriving Vancouver establishment sat yawning. Arlington Cross waited for a blitz of customers and clients, to keep his lifestyle as a King Edward Avenue apartment resident, on that glittery social scene near Vandusen Botanical

His father, Thomas, had retired to a cozy cabin in Oregon. Younger brother Maxwell returned to life in Dallas. Arlington's sibling carved out quite a fulfilling life in the legal arena of Texas.

Being a bachelor could be many things to a man. As for sex, that remained a puzzle, in and of itself. Arlington remained a bachelor who had freedom to explore feminine companionship. And, he did so without abandon.

Nylons in nightclubs, bikinis on bronzed flesh, and diamond adorned bodies in his bed kept satisfaction on the smiling face of Arlington Cross.

Peach painted nails on a manicured hand approached Arlington with a coral colored envelope "Mr. Cross?"

"Yes."

Tanned, lean limbs, exposed from the mid-thigh of a green skirt, moved motioned closer. "I hear that you're having an auction in two weeks. I think there are a few items which might peak my interest to purchase."

"Really?" Rising from behind Chayline's desk, his hand reached out to hers. Cross looked at a crinkled flyer of a few months prior, up and down. "And, what kind of items are you looking for?"

"My husband and I," She returned his handshake and with moist lips added, "are in the market for exotic figurines."

Hearing of a spouse was like garlic to a penetrating vampire. "Oh," Cross changed his tone as a distinctive silver band glimmered on her wedding finger. "Well, we're putting something together soon." Arlington's inquisitive nature consumed the moment with this woman. "How did you get that notice, ma'am?"

"Mr. Cross. I do have my ways" She remarked, as her emerald eyes were fanned with soft eyelashes. Her raspberry lips parted, as did a rayon jacket to reveal ample assets to him. "Could you give me a description of what the upcoming items for auction are?"

"Ma'am, this flyer is from an old auction we had a while back," he said, putting it on the desk. Arlington began to turn a beam of investigation onto this mysterious marigold, "We've just had a shipment of Hummel. Would you like to view them?"

"Mr. Cross, I'd like you to suggest something that might suit me." She shifted soft flesh on the seat; her slight French accent washed over him. "My husband's been on a long business trip." An aura of arousal wafted around this obviously bored wife of privilege. "I wanted to give him a surprise when he returns home in a few days."

"Something different is what you're looking for, correct?"

The tip of her tongue moved against her bare teeth, as she slowly twirled a few strands of long, golden hair. "I think you're the type of man that could give a woman exactly what she needs."

"I have something that will put a smile on that lovely face, ma'am." Word play was like foreplay to Cross, as though a lump of hesitation lodged in his throat. He skimmed the thick blue catalog. "I mean, Cross has a wide selection of pieces of the obscure and erotic." Flipping past pages of statues and wall art, he found something his potential customer would enjoy. "Also, there are some masks from Morocco that we got in last week," he said, showing a picture of an object of fertility. Her body language of arousal diminished. "But, they might not be what you and your husband need."

"Why is that, Mr. Cross?" A miniscule pout formed on those berry colored lips of hers.

"They are traditional fertility masks."

Girlish giggles erupted from her. "You are quite right." Gently taking the catalog from him, she stood and placed it onto that desk. "I don't want a mask or anything from that catalog."

"How do you know? That's old." She gingerly placed her left hand on the catalog.

Cross became puzzled at her remark. "You haven't been in here before." Those brown eyes looked more intently at him. "Have you?"

"I - I didn't mean the catalog was old." Pangs of embarrassment came to her reddening cheeks as she continued to speak. "I mean to say that is outdated for what I'm in the market for."

Cross closed the catalog. "Oh, I think I can see." Arlington tried to attain further information from her. "Well, if you would tell me what kind of man your husband is, maybe I can assist you in finding something appropriate."

"He is a man who doesn't spend enough time with his wife." The seductive siren gave more intimate details to the man. "He's a man who leaves his wife alone." Pretending a flickering of bashfulness, she added, "Many a lonely and cold night, he has done this."

Arlington Cross was about to respond to this emerald ember, which sat lusciously before him as a stream of car horns began beeping on the street outside. "Some men just don't know how lucky they actually are."

"Well, I guess it's especially lucky when a royal flush is in their grasp." Her present for an absent spouse became the last item that was on her mind at that moment in time. "Lady Luck can give a winning roll of the dice." Her feminine charms came to the forefront once more as she gazed down at Arlington's affected lower half.

"Or snake eyes." Cross's erection had to be placed on a back burner. He knew the complications of mixing Cross Collectibles' business with captivating trysts and their unforeseen consequences.

Arlington Cross had a modern day vision of those magnificent Three Graces within arm's length. Yet, his lust would have to remain hidden beneath the dark brown cloth of his pants.

Mischievously, she turned up the heat. "Oh, and that's an image to ponder too."

Feeling like a marlin that had just been hooked off the Florida coast, Cross began realizing this pretty package in his business was a bit too eager to obtain that caviar ticket to a Cross Collectibles' private auction. "I don't think you and your husband will find what you're looking for at my business."

"Just because I'm married, Arlington" She brushed against his left shoulder, an offer and admission of passion was laid at Cross's feet. "It does not mean that I am a tulip with only a single petal."

Her intentions towards this stranger would seem obvious to him. She knew how to talk to any man and get his attention. At this moment in time, her sights were set on Cross.

He was flattered and horny. But Arlington's radar doubted her motives for the strong come on to him. Cross was being offered entree into an erotic encounter with a woman who appeared to be too good to be true.

And, from a cautious dealer of antiques, sometimes it was best not to make the sale, no matter what the underlying cost would turn out to be.

"What a description."

Taking a slip of paper from her purse, she scribbled. "Call me, if you have a change of schedule." She handed him the note and her luscious body slinked towards the door. She turned to him and continued, "Call me, if you've got the inkling he's not around."

"By the way," Whizzing past her, Cross asked, "What's your name?"

Her sandal-clad feet quickly stepped onto the crowded sidewalk of Heather Street as she licked her glossed lips. "Clover."

It turned out to be a first for him. Arlington Cross had just been pumped. Not for lust, but for information. He crossed is arms and stood by the door waiting for Vincent's return.

..End Of Excerpt

(Well, of course, the hidden agendas are played by winks, smiles and naked thighs throughout "Rack Em"...)

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Explore - A Poem by A.H. Scott

Explore

Explore inner space
Explore outer space
Explore the wrinkles of time upon my face
Explore experience, which youth hasn’t a clue of
Explore my hands with kisses from your lips
Exploring you like a sojourner, is such a trip
Truth be told, we’re not so old after all
Few flakes of snow in your attic, doesn’t mean the fire doesn’t still burn below
Gravity sent a farewell peck on my buns and melons many days ago
Lying here together, I rest my hand on your chest
You lay your hand upon mine gently
Feels nice to know a man who can truly appreciate a woman
Not a girl am I with a giggle and vacant sigh
Nor you a boy with a constantly descended fly
Explore the moments to treasure one another
Exploring you as my lover
My lips meet your chest and make it’s acquaintance
Soon, I’ll be giving you full maintenance
Manicured nails roll onto flexing muscles
In the night of blue moon and stars, my hands are exploring your galaxy
Bodies braided lightly on that bed as we emerged in love again and again and again
Stars in my eyes, are nothing compared to the tingling in my thighs
Neither of us were chicks at heaven’s dawning
Yet, when I wanted to go one more time, it was you that started yawning
Exploring is fun
And, not just for those of slim age
Quality is an experience that gets better with time
Exploration is the care that a woman and man share when they toss away society’s clock
Morning came and we awoke in each other’s arms
Refreshed and revived, our hearts are alive
Exploring the day anew
It’s nice to share tender gems of my life with you…



- A.H. Scott
2/21/12

A HUSBAND'S SECRET IS A SILK GAMBLE.......

.....A WIFE IS LEFT HOLDING A SOWS PURSE...














Lawrence Chase owed a debt. His wife, Angela, took a gamble. Pity for both, that losing a few dollars would be nothing compared to higher stakes in their marriage.

What begins as a bargain of assisting a spouse with a problem, takes a woman down a rocky road of self reflection, desire and unraveling a secret from the past.

Go "Over My Head" with A.H. Scott!

Looking at a portrait of a man and wife, the fractures of a marriage aren't easily seen. Smile and supportive caress hide the barren wasteland of a relationship.

They were a happy couple once. With fresh air and laughter. Chuckles fade. Gone is the optimism of youthful exuberance.

Blissful petals have withered on the vine of time

Symbol of an affair is permanently erased.

A wife, who has acted upon her own desires, has taken a carefree step into a world she never expected would come at the end of fate's rainbow.


She is a woman who exists amongst four joined stages of life's square. Exploration is the first angle. Love comes as the second turn of degrees. Passion takes third angle. Obligation is that fourth angle of completing the cube of this female's world.


Lace cradles creamy flesh. Yet, warts of a soul's disfigurement can never be truly obscured.


A husband's secret is the cornerstone of events, which lead to triumph and tragedy in a shortest span of time.


Veiled agendas beneath soft kisses are bitter in daylight's exposure, as intrusions of many forms take several by surprise.


Man of varied lies and devilish alibis has snaked his way into the lives of this couple. Certain word of support or smile of comfort had the effect of making all the difference in gaining entry into another's life.

Before either knows it, they are submerged in something beyond their control.

For what was a frivolous flirtation, became a shower of a heart's hidden obsession onto a floor of doom's dance.

It leads to that moment of culmination's wondering by this wandering wife to staying afloat in a marriage's rickety vessel of distress or forever being "Over My Head".

Eau Claire society had never been plagued with such a scandal.

An affair that had begun under less than pleasant circumstances, unraveled into a hazy sunset of sorrow for Angela, Nicholas and Lawrence.

The Chases' marriage had a ribbon of secrets and lies that each held closed to the other. Lawrence's lies led Angela to harbor secrets of her own to him.

In some ways, actions by her husband propelled this dutiful wife into the arms of another man.

No one gets out of this life without paying a price.

Singular event on a sexually charged night with Angela Chase at it's core, turns from a bubblegum pop song of simplicity into a Wagnerian symphony of doom within the pages of "Over My Head".


"OVER MY HEAD" DESCRIPTION :

Lies and secrets are like molecules of fat. They always rise to the surface.

In the swirling stew of seduction, two persons draw a wife into a web of corruption and condemnation. First of which is her husband, who harbors a secret that she has found out about. Secondly, a man whose intentions towards her have been well known for many years.

Her husband's secret is bound to a lie that the an acquaintance uses to his own benefit. This wife decides to take a gamble of her own, which leads to places that unseen consequences roam.

"Over My Head" is a contemporary romance, filled with smothered aspirations, smoldering sparks, and an explosive conclusion.

Woman at the heart of this novel is Angela Chase. Sexy brunette with a pouting sense of privilege, she always has been spoiled by her tycoon father.

Sometimes a spoiled child becomes a brat that thinks the world should bow down to her. For Angie, she'd enjoyed having her stocking clad knees onto a floor also.

Angela Chase may have been a married woman, but she was far from a shrinking violet on passion's scale. Tiny fractures of her relationship to Lawrence Chase began widdling away at this woman's self esteem.

Neglecting Angela was Lawrence's first sin. Racing into second place behind neglect, came an act of omission.

Events in the lives of the Chases could have taken such a different road, if only a husband told his wife the entire truth about a secret he'd been holding.

Alas, what Lawrence Chase set in motion, Angela Chase would barter with in skin of perfumed lotion.

Desire can take us to places that the heart can never capture. A simple hand out to a stranger can be all that a lonely person could ever need. Even if it were from someone you never thought would be a part of your life. In this tale of crimson conclusions and titillation's triumph, only a single notion of being submerged in an ocean of delights is whispered into a longing soul's ear.

Shall my world remain one of mendacity or should I go, "Over My Head".

"Over My Head" has a few twists amongst the pages, that will leave the reader wondering how did A.H. Scott make the pea vanish from beneath that obvious shell.

A wife. A husband. A lover.

Sex. Money. Power. Lies. Obsession. Murder.

That's "Over My Head". Submerge Yourself Into Seduction's Sea.

And, with that, A.H. Scott offers you an introduction to the players in her novel, "Over My Head":


OVER MY HEAD CHARACTERS:

Angela Carter Chase -
(Heiress and Lawrence Chase's wife)

Angela Carter had been given the world on a silver platter by her tycoon father, Arthur Carter. Even with that, this feisty woman was now a wife to an accountant, Lawrence Chase.

Even with that life that seemed very serene, Angela wanted more. In this case, more came in the unlikely form of a quite titillating restaurateur and businessman named Nicholas Bell.

No one gets out of this life without paying a price.

Singular event on a sexually charged night with Angela Chase at it's core, turns from a bubblegum pop song of simplicity into a Wagnerian symphony of doom within the pages of "Over My Head".

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Lawrence Chase
Accountant and Angela's husband

Lawrence Chase may not have been what Eau Claire society may have expected to be married to Angela Carter. Yet, he made his own luck in love's field. Being an accountant at Arthur Carter's business, Lawrence enjoyed the benefits of being married to the boss' daughter.

Chase may have been lucky in love, but when it came to other high stakes games, Larry was a loser. And, the person who sat in the catbird's seat of having this tender plum of information would be the last person Lawrence Chase could trust.

-------------

Edward Longfellow -
(Lawyer and Carter family friend)


Edward Longfellow knew the law inside and out. But, his greatest asset was an ability to read people. This came from his varied clients in Eau Claire and other locations throughout Wisconsin.

Being a longtime legal counsel and friend to industrialist Arthur Carter, Edward became privy to many aspects of the Carter family goings on.

Having known Angela since she was born, Edward had been a quite protective force in her life. Certain secrets between this lawyer and young heiress would be quite catastrophic for both of their reputations, if anything were ever disclosed.


Angela Chase confided many things to Edward, which neither Arthur or Lawrence would ever know.

--------------

Nicholas Bell -
(Businessman and Angela's lover)


Nicholas Bell was owner of a local nightspot (The Eight Ball) for many years, when he met Angela Carter. As she became Angela Chase, now restaurateur (Tulip) Bell remained a quite captivated man by this woman from afar.


Bell climbed the social ladder in Eau Claire, from the lower rungs up towards the top of that structure. Arthur Carter's nod of approval for his restaurant, proved the tide of acceptability in a higher social circle was turning in Nicholas' favor.


From a young age, Nicholas learned the best way to get ahead was to sit back and observe. And, then pounce on whatever weakness your opponent may have.


Thus, whenever he'd gotten a chance, this smart man would use information his own benefit. Be it in the form of a digits' ascendancy or cradling of perfumed skin.


Timing was everything and Bell took full advantage of that fateful factor.

-----------------


Arthur Carter -
(Tycoon and Angela's father)


Some businessman try to pretend to be something that they are not. This was not the case for a mid-Western industrialist. Arthur Carter was an arrogant man. That is a statement of fact. He never tried to runaway from who he was or how he amassed his vast fortune.

Steel was the ticket to Arthur's fortune. And, it also was the will he had to make his business a success in Wisconsin.

This was something that he'd passed down to his daughter, Angela. She'd thrived under that armor of his arrogance to her own detriment at the moment.

Arthur Carter was always fair in business. But, no one would ever be shocked if he had taken an invisible razor from his tailored suit pocket in the boardroom.

Money became a shielding column of bricks to the real world. But, there always were fissures in that seemingly solid wall that the rich built around themselves.

----------------------

Gennaro Esposito -
(NB Auto Repair manager and Bell's friend)

Primarily, Gennaro Esposito was a longtime friend of Nicholas Bell. Manager of Bell's auto repair business, Esposito enjoyed similar interests of pleasure as Nicholas.

Gennaro shared many a secret with his socially ascending friend in Eau Claire.


-----------


Iris Mendoza -
(The Cat's Paw Tattoo Parlor owner and Bell's friend)


Secondly, Iris Mendoza was also a friend to Nicholas Bell. Owner of a local tattoo parlor, Iris and Bell shared many a laugh and drink together.


Mendoza may have seemed like an unlikely ally to Bell. But, each of them knew the power of association.


-------------


Archie Hamilton -
(Bartender at The Eight Ball & Part-Time Tulip Restaurant manager)


Archie Hamilton was a man who knew all the key players in this drama. From a previous position working for Arthur Carter, to the present day employment at two of Nicholas Bell's businesses, Archie Hamilton had a faint finger on the pulse of the main characters in this novel.

Working as a bartender at that nightspot and a part-time manager at the swanky restaurant, Archie didn't have much free time to dream of a better life for himself and his family.

Yet, this man of multiple obligations did just that.

-----------------------------------


Madeline Hamilton -
(Physical therapist and Archie Hamilton's wife)


Physical therapist Madeline Hamilton worked at the local hospital. Wife to Archie and mother of two young sons, Madeline had a quite pleasant existence in Eau Claire.


Madeline's world was her family. And, even with any flaws that were behind closed doors, she would do anything to protect and love her husband, Archie.


The Hamilton's marriage may not have been sparkling. But, they were a union of stability with their two sons.


--------------------------------


Julius Baxter -
(Wisconsin court Judge)


Julius Baxter was an Eau Claire County Judge that had played a part in the lives of three of the other main characters. He knew the Carter family and Edward Longfellow had stood before him at the judicial bar.


Restraint was never truly Julius' strong point. And, one of the other characters in this juicy novel feels the brunt of his ever increasing ego.


Judge Baxter was an ambitious man, as time would prove him to rise to the head of Wisconsin's Supreme Court.


---------------------------


Ann Marshall Baxter -
(Socialite and Julius' wife)


Ann Marshall Baxter was not only the wife of Judge Julius Baxter, but thrived as a socialite in Wisconsin society. Ann wasn't a wife who bit her tongue in criticizing a spouse.


In fact, it may have been Ann's ballbusting of Julius that prompted the rise of this mid-level judge on the Eau Claire County circuit.


Ann knew that behind her powerful husband, remained a woman of charm and elegance, who wasn't above twisting a few arms in maintaining their place on that platinum peak of society.



---------------------------

Darlene Morrissey -
(Tulip restaurant waitress)


Darlene Morrissey had known Angela Carter in their years at the local Catholic high school together. Morrissey hadn't the fortune to have a rich father provide for a smooth existence for her, such as Angela had.


From Darlene's point of view towards Angela, envy smoldered within this woman who saw her own dreams of a better life doused by choices she made in years past.


So, she became a waitress at a local, high end restaurant.


Looking at them on the surface, both women were as different as a crepe and poundcake. Alas, scrape away the fluffy finery of a father's wealth and the world would realize both women were equal halves of a whole.


Beneath Angela's silk and Darlene's polyester, both had many things in common. This included a layered relationship with Nicholas Bell.


Explore the world of A.H. Scott's "Over My Head' in this extended excerpt:

EXCERPT -


FIRST CHAPTER EXCERPT DESCRIPTION - Lawrence Chase has a problem. Angela Chase does not know about it yet. So, the question that arises is; how does this husband keep this secret from his loving wife?


FIRST CHAPTER ONLY

EXCERPT -

Over My Head
by
A.H. Scott



Chapter



Lawrence Chase felt himself lucky. A good job and great wife were all signs of fortune. Married to his employer's daughter, his future seemed brighter than a thousand stars. Angela Carter's passion and spirit filled him with overwhelming joy. Larry found a gem in Angie.

With light temperament and coy smile, Angela had a varied effect on every man she came in contact with. Angela's own sense of fortune, was reflected in being adored by all the men in her life. From her husband to her father, she had the persuasive gift in wrapping each of them around her manicured finger.

Yet, even with the ease of the feminine power that Angela Chase had, her husband Larry waltzed with a mistress that no spouse would ever compete with.

Lawrence's luck began to slip with every losing hand from a blackjack table at the Rabbit's Foot in 1979.

Beneath the shimmering surface of the Chases' relationship, there existed jagged shards that pricked away at the portrait of marital tranquility.

Doubts and misgivings that had been locked away in internal silence within husband and wife, suddenly began to sound once again with the jangling keys of secrets and lies.


For Lawrence, he thought staying on top of his losses at the Rabbit's Foot and a few other locations around the state, would be a secret that would be easy to keep from his wife. But, he knew in the back of his mind, that Angela would be the precious petal being betrayed by a spouse whose ego had gotten the best of him when the truth came out.

As for Angela, there were the lies that she told herself about Larry not gambling anymore. But, beyond the financial storm that had begun to swirl around her world, there remained something far more destructive than a husband's rising debt.

It was something that neither of them wanted to face head on or speak of. But, a lie of the heart would never stay buried forever.

Alas, life wasn't as placid as this couple would have wished it to be.

During a period within the first two months of their marriage in 1975, Larry's gambling debts became an accepted burden which Angie paid off. Like any other loving spouse, she wanted to help her husband with any complications that arose. Pulling Lawrence's neck out of that financial noose, Angela sold several savings bonds.

Pity this husband didn't learn his lesson back then in those blossoming days of marital bliss.

One thing that Larry didn't want to do at this present time in 1979, was to go to his wife for those funds as in prior days of their marriage in 1975 for the sum of thirty-five thousand dollars.

At an unlicensed gambling establishment off Highway 44 and 49 in Fairwater, Wisconsin, Larry's debts began to rise with several digits. He knew this reality couldn't be placed on his beloved Angie's subtle shoulders.

The Rabbit's Foot seemed an unlikely place for him to stand on that tightrope of self-destruction. Yet, there Lawrence Chase was on a June night in 1979.

Rommoulus Thorne, manager and owner of The Rabbit's Foot had physical similarities to film noir actor Sydney Greenstreet. His large frame and commanding presence intimidated many unfortunate patrons in this Fairwater gambling establishment.

One person who was on that descending scale of favor was seated at the blackjack table.

June 19th seemed like any other night at the Rabbit's Foot for this regular patron. Man who sat at the table was a slightly anxious businessman from Eau Claire, dressed in tan suit with a white shirt and black tie. Hand after hand of cards coming up short to the number twenty-one, was making him begin to squirm in of the red chairs seated around the black gaming table.

Thorne and two of his employees stood near a column nearby the blackjack table, watching the spectacle of lost bets by this single man seated there.

Born Rafik-el Rommoulus Talami, this Turkish native had been in the United States since the late 1950's. After changing his name to the more innocuous Thorne, from a trip to the Thorne Market in Fond du Lac, Rommoulus began a new life of prosperity.

Having had prior visa problems that led to a sizable fine by the IRS, Rommoulus was blocked from a full licensing of the Rabbit's Foot in 1966. Without the liquor license needed for full expansion of his business, The Rabbit's Foot would always remain on the shady side of the gambling world.

The last thing that Rommoulus Thorne needed was a blackjack table that had little to no action occurring around it. Thorne made a decision to talk to the seated patron.

Six words that no gambler ever wanted to hear came from Rommoulus Thorne, "The table is closed to you".

"Listen, just one more bet" ,pant of urgency rolled from Larry's lips, as two cards rested upon that dark green velour table top, "I've got a good feeling about this next one".

Thorne placed his hand onto the blackjack table, as fingers tapped the two cards that were just dealt to this man by the dealer, "Larry" ,Rommoulus nodded to the dealer and the neatly dressed croupier walked away from that table slowly.

Lawrence Chase had taken many an evening sojourn East on I-94 from Eau Claire to Fairwater and saw no reason to exit early.

Childish petulance came over Larry, has he wished to stay at that blackjack table, "No" ,raising voice to a level pitch where several other patrons gazed at him, Chase lowered his voice and smiled, "I want to continue".

With a diplomatic flair, Rommoulus Thorne bent over slightly and whispered downward to Chase's left ear, "Don't make a scene, Chase" ,not wanting their business to be known by anyone else on the gaming floor of the Rabbit's Foot, "I want you to stand up and come with me".

Dejected at not having a winning hand at the moment, Lawrence Chase stood and began to walk with Thorne and two other men behind him, "I just don't know what went wrong" ,shaking his head in disbelief at the possibility of a losing streak washing over him, he added "I was up 50".

The quartet walked across the gaming floor and towards the back of the building, where some offices were located. Pair of other males stopped a few feet from the last office in the rear and waited for further instructions from Thorne.

Ambling through his office door, Rommoulus waved him inside and closed the door behind them, "And, now you're down 250" ,Thorne pointed to a straight-back, black leather chair, "Sit down, Larry, we need to talk".

Slightly agitated by the owner's request, Larry sat down and sputtered, "I've got to get back out there" ,almost feeling that itch of the gambling bug nibbling at his essence, Chase gently squirmed in that leather chair.

Fairwater business owner laid this client's digits bare to him, "Lawrence, you owe the house 250" ,Thorne took the patron's history into account, "Now, I let your credit get that high, because in the past whenever you owed a large chunk it was paid back quite quickly".

Alas, for Rommoulus Thorne, past performances were negligible.
Scratching head at the thought of that debt dangling above his head, Larry exhaled with a hint of desperation, "Well, that sum might not be so easy to come up with".

"This is why you are in here" ,Rommoulus inhaled deeply and dropped a verbal bomb on Chase, "The door will not let you in anymore".

"But, I-" ,Chase paused and thought of all the times he'd been in the Rabbit's Foot over many months, "I've been a good customer to you".

Thorne chuckled at the optimistic fortitude that Chase tossed his way, "Good? Well, that's debatable" ,getting right to the core of why Larry was in that office, "Your losses outweigh your winnings".

"You know me, I'm good for it" ,Chase made no bones in the past to Thorne about who his employer was in Eau Claire. And, at this point in the waning night, he was going to use any ace of remaining at the Rabbit's Foot that was available to him.

Maybe, Carter Manufacturing Corporation held weight in Eau Claire's financial spreadsheets. Yet, in the back room of an unlicensed gambling operation in Fairwater, the only weight that mattered was Rommoulus'.

"The house can no longer cover your credit" ,Thorne rested large frame against sturdy structure and folded arms, "You are no longer welcome here".

The Rabbit's Foot's owner laid out the reality of what was happening that June night to this faltering card player, without frills or puffery.

Lawrence Chase was fitting the mold of the gambler that could see a winning hand just over the horizon. Yet, was unwilling to just give up his place at the gaming table, "I'm just having a bad streak, that's all. It will pick up soon".

"I'm sorry, Larry" ,slowly he walked behind his black Lucite desk, pulled a single paper from its drawer and placed it next to a gold ballpoint pen, "I need you to sign this note for the 250".

Lawrence Chase signed the paper quickly, thinking that he'd be able to get in a few more hands of blackjack before leaving for that night, "Now, what?"

Adorned n a light colored suit, Thorne spoke, "Don't be the rabbit, Larry", smirking at the thought of how unlucky that foot was for the hare, another bewildered beast came to this elder male's mind, "Or, in this case, the ostrich".

Larry's luck became a figment of his own ego. Being a gimpy bunny was one thing of misfortune. He could outride the losses in future months. Alas, turning into that flightless bird that didn't realize the depths of financial loss Chase actually was in, transformed into a shame that not even his wife would be told of.

Blindsided by these events in the Rabbit's Foot, he was a bit baffled with that comparison, "I don't understand".

As a man who'd known the bitter brew of revenge from his youth in Turkey, Rommoulus ruminated to Larry, "In my country, when a man doesn't pay his debts, the dawn never rises for him ever again" ,for the present moment, a tempered reaction was needed, "But, then again, Mr. Chase, this isn't my country. It's yours".

Wanting to wash Chase out of his hair, Thorne made a decision of what should be done with this unfortunate gambler. Larry had come to the end of the line.

Rommoulus walked to the door and motioned for two of his employees to enter the office. No violence would ever come from this Turk on the American shores. A dismissal of this losing patron was best for all involved, as he spoke to a pair of men, "Please, show Mr. Chase outside".

Motioning out of the chair, Larry muttered, "Are you throwing me out?" ,almost unable to believe that his time could ever be up at the Rabbit's Foot, Chase shrugged and gazed at Thorne and this pair.

One man in his mid-30's had a slim build with a dark suit on. As for the other person, he was a tall Nordic blond in his early-40's. Larry had seen them around the Rabbit's Foot many times and knew what their duties were. Sad for him, they would be acting upon throwing out the unpaying trash of this evening.

"No, no, no" ,Rommoulus Thorne became amused at this circumstance of Chase, "Think of this as a final escort" ,right hand waved Larry away, "Hope your luck changes soon, Larry" ,letting out a sigh of relief, "Good night".

To some, the stuff that dreams were made of were seen as an elusive black bird, while others viewed it as a shaky hand holding a wad of crumpled dollar bills. The latter remained foremost in Thorne's mind.

Life wasn't a motion picture in the mold of John Huston's 1941 classic. But, the similarities between fiction and reality had those moments of clarity. And, this for Rommoulus Thorne and a departing Lawrence Chase transformed into one of them.

Not giving up on his chase for recapturing any prior luck at the table, Chase walked through the gaming floor towards the front entrance with the pair of men, "Fellas, just one more round?"

Slim man in dark brown suit placed a hand on Larry's back, while giving him a slight push outside the doors, "Sorry, Larry".

"Take care of yourself, Chase" ,Tall man with slicked back blond hair stood by that open door and shook Lawrence's hand for the final time, "Good night".

Walking out into the moonlight alone, he walked to his car quickly. Chase became a scattered soul, while entering the Volvo and opening the glove compartment. Grasping a handful of objects and tossing them onto the passenger seat, Larry began flipping through several bank books in a frantic search for funds. Taking a notepad and pen from the open glove compartment, he began scribbling down several numbers onto paper. From seven different bank accounts, the total cash that was available to him at that late moment of June 19th was only forty-five thousand dollars to pay the house back with.

Ironically, it was conversation during a fishing trip with friends on Beechwood Lake that originally led him to Marigold Isle Casino for a few spins of a roulette wheel. Locals at that casino in Beechwood, were actually the ones who pointed him from Sheboygan and into the direction of Fairwater's gambling Mecca of the Rabbit's Foot.

For Lawrence Chase, that lucky symbol of a rabbit's foot seemed as unlucky for the hare as it was to his own fractured financial horizon.

Three weeks after that dismissal in Fairwater, several markers of various denominations were brought up by an Eau Claire resident. It would be that being, who would hold several former Wisconsin clients' monetary future from the Rabbit's Foot. One of which, was Lawrence Chase.

As three men sat inside an Eau Claire location on July 17th, a small pile of yellow papers were stacked in the middle of a tan colored table.

Male of caramel hue spoke to another next to him, "It's 250, right?", scribbling black ink onto white paper.

Second man nodded, "Yep".

With pen in hand, he held paper upward for the second male to respond, "Are you sure you want to keep this marker?"

"As I live and breathe", looking at that item in his friend's hand, he laughed.

Dark eyes and baldhead, gave the third man a striking appearance, "Well, the air is expensive in Eau Claire".

Man seated in the middle acknowledged that fact, "As are the ladies, Iris".

The location was the Eight Ball. Gennaro Esposito held the pen and papers, while follicle challenged; Iris Mendoza sat to the far left of the second male. And, the owner of this business, Nicholas Bell, remained the contemplative core of this trio.

For an astute acquirer of information and debts, Nicholas Bell polished those coins of cache.

He knew that someday his investment in time and treasury would bear flourishing fruit. Maybe for Bell, someday might be just across the horizon of destiny.

Unlucky person that owed that sum was Lawrence Chase.

Eau Claire lawyer, Edward Longfellow had several clients that were connected to Marigold Isle Casino in Beechwood. During a conversation with one of them, the name Chase came up. As if it were a bell ringing in his ears, Longfellow was set off on a mission to find out more. From Beechwood, a little legwork led him to the Rabbit's Foot in Fairwater.

Lawyer Longfellow wasn't just an unknown entity to Lawrence Chase. He had a connection to Larry, because of his business and personal ties to Angela's father, Arthur Carter.

Eddie finding out about the monetary mess that Larry had gotten himself into, led him to think about Angie being hurt by her husband's actions.

An unpleasant task of giving Angela Chase the grim news about her husband, was complicated by Edward knowing who owned that hefty marker.

There were two paths of existence in Eau Claire .One, which Arthur and Angela Carter Chase glided along a silken road. Two, was Nicholas Bell and his compatriots maneuvering a more gritty path. For Edward, it was this factor that made something simple suddenly complex.

Far more than just corporation counsel for Carter Manufacturing Corporation, Edward Longfellow had dual alliances with both Carters. Both professionally and socially. Second of which, were events that occurred a year after his longtime friend's daughter had gotten into some knotty legal problems.

Coincidently, the aforementioned community service that the college graduate was sentenced to didn't turn out as she expected.

Angela had a secret of her own.



- FIRST CHAPTER ONLY

- END OF EXCERPT


Behind the doors of the wealthy, there's always something stirring...;)



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