A Lost Locket of Lahari Book
The Dreamer
By Terra Harmony
A Lost Locket of Lahari Book
The Dreamer
By Terra Harmony
Copyright 2014 by Terra Harmony
A Patchwork Press Title
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
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Chapter One
Tittering laughter skips across the street, turning the heads of older women who pull their fur shawls tighter around their necks, lips pressed together tight. It is a cold November in Manhattan when the proper folks are finishing their evening and retiring home, and the younger twenty-somethings are just descending upon the town—primped for a long night out.
More laughter; the woman's head tips back so the short, blond bob bounces across her shoulders. The gentleman walking alongside her leans in, sneaking a kiss along the delicate curve of her neck. The pair almost walks straight into a streetlamp, the debacle causing further giggles from the woman and a guffaw from her escort.
The slinky, knee-length sliver dress bounces against her legs, attracting just as much attention as the woman's rebellious haircut. It is as if the cold doesn't touch her, her arms and legs are bare. Of course, taking three steps to his every one, her legs crossing over each other just to maintain balance, could be keeping her plenty warm.
And the night is just beginning.
The pair reaches a padded, bright red door. He knocks on the square, wooden window and raises his chin, his lips whispering a password. There is a loud click, and as he pulls on the handle, the gentlemen holds the door open for his lady. The high squeal of a trumpet floats out, riding the beat of a heart-thumping bass drum. The woman pauses, performing an exaggerated curtsey—one that almost leaves her face down at the curb. He steadies her just in time, one side of his mouth curved up in a knowing smile.
A small locket, barely perceptible from across the street, escapes from underneath her dress, dangling from a chain. While she is still bent over, the woman quickly tucks it back in. She straightens and smiles up at her rescuer.
Practically bearing half of her body weight as they enter the jazz club, the gentleman disappears amidst the music and smoke, pulling his partner in. The door closes behind them, depriving the rest of the street any glimpse of the sinfully exotic party.