Chapter One: A respectable house Martha Wharton surveyed the unspoken, hidden chaos of her house. It wasn’t actually her house, of course. She was a cockney immigrant to New York. She had arrived as a fifteen-year-old in 1857, and started as a chambermaid in a grand house in Murray Hill. Hard work, charm, a capacity to put up with no end of shite, and, most importantly, a gift for exploiting the weaknesses of others, had...

Emily stopped at the crest of the hill. She had left later than was wise, and had skied the last couple of miles in quickly falling light. The truth may have been that she had left late on purpose. The truth may have been that she liked having the trail to herself. The truth may have been that she loved the stillness that came after the sun went down. The truth may have been that she loved how the beam of her headlamp dan...

Jack let out a sigh as the plane gained altitude. It had been an incredible trip. The hiking, skiing on a glacier, beach combing, and, good heavens. the sex, had all been magnificent. It might well have been the perfect trip, and Ellen might be as close to the perfect woman as any he could imagine. Yet, with every foot of altitude and mile west of Portland the wide-body gained, Jack drifted back to his normal life in New...

Beth made her rounds from room to room like a zombie. Working on seven hours' sleep achieved in, at best, thirty-minute increments over the previous two days, she struggled to put coherent thoughts together. What thoughts she did have were more like visions. It was as if a drone version of her exhausted mind was looking down upon herself, lying naked in the soft sheets of her own bed, eating Hagandaz from the carton, watc...

A thirty-year-old box stares from the top shelf, Calling with memories and heartache. Like a thistle attached to the cuff of his life, The box could not be washed away, nor was it welcome. Hands stained by sun, age and injury, Pry open the box, it's key long lost. A mélange of cedar, ink, old paper and Chanel, Races from the box like a demon, triggering visions. Blue Air Mail envelopes tied in a ribbon, Flash images of th...

They sat in the “neutral” conference room on the sixtieth floor. When Roger had first stepped into the room, he had been taken with the view. There was Lake Ontario, of course, but there was also Lisa Chen, his adversary in a potentially life-changing negotiation. She was gorgeous, with her raven hair, big brown eyes, and full lips. On that first day, she wore a red Chanel suit, and he thought he’d never seen a more strik...

Lisa fiddled with her phone with irritation. Five texts and three exclamation point emails since she barged into the room just a half-hour ago! All of her reports knew full well not to bother her on a Friday night unless it was truly urgent. Did all these things really need the CEO to weigh in? She put her phone into "do not disturb" mode. Whatever it was would have to wait. These Fridays with Marcus were too precious, an...

Priscilla descended the staircase with the eyes of fifty or sixty people upon her. She was in a white gown that contrasted against her deep brown skin. Her substantial décolletage was on display, and her dress opened between her legs, revealing her white, ribbed stockings, held in place with Carolina-blue ribbons. Some saw a slave. Some saw a whore. At least one saw the most important spy in America. ~.~ North America was...

As the knights crested the hill above Camelot, they all realized something was amiss. They were gathering for the autumn tournament, and yet there were no viewing stands built for the joust, nor the sword, nor the horse races. Rather, only a simple circle of pennants had been placed within the sacred field. The knights and maidens were ushered into the Great Hall, where they waited impatiently. Food and game were scarce i...

It was not as if the idea came to Jack all of a sudden. Rather than a single lightning bolt, his inspiration came as a series of sparks, which built to a mighty charge. The first spark came in an off-hand comment from Diane. She shared that a handsome, young valet driver had flirted with her, and then said, “It was nice. I was beginning to think I was becoming invisible.” Jack’s reaction was surprise, followed by feeling...

Stephen’s nipples stiffened and he broke into excited goose flesh as he pulled the sheer white stockings over his freshly waxed legs. It was hardly his first time pulling-on stockings. He had played in women’s clothes — his elder sister’s — since he was ten years old. No, his excitement was because tonight would be the first time that he and his wonderful wife would venture out into the straight world. Stephen stepped int...

Mick kept the break to himself. He had found it via Google Maps: a tiny cove on the western edge of Scotland. It had required many days of errant hiking to finally reach it. The effort had been more than worth it. He now had a perfect right-hand peeling wave, all to himself. He had it dialed in, now. A three-hour drive in his old Land Rover, much of it off-road, followed by a ninety-minute hike. He would leave well before...

The President swirled her way through the state dinner, in her usual style. Charming, ingratiating, and working every political angle in every conversation, like a Lyndon Johnson with tits. Whether they were guests and dignitaries meeting her for the first time, or Washington insiders that had known her for years, all were struck by her ability to capture and hold a room. It didn’t hurt, that on top of her intelligence, w...

Scotty saw her at a distance across the open first floor of the Musée D’Orsay. She was climbing the white limestone staircase at the far end, pausing every few steps to take in the golden, giant clock above her. She was in a form fitting black dress. Later, as she stripped for him, he would see that it was Prada. He found himself nearly running to catch up to her. As he got closer he struggled to decide where his eyes sho...

Don zipped his suitcase and raced down his front stairs. He was late for his Uber. When be got to the street, he was taken aback. According to the App, there should have been a guy named Ahmed waiting for him in a beige Prius. Rather, a woman stood impatiently next to a silver Bentley Flying Spur. “Don?” the woman asked. “Um, yeah…Are you my Uber?” “Yes,” the woman said in accented English. “Ahmed was…detained. I’m Aphrod...