A Halloween Ball Murder

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Thanks for playing – the Scavenger Hunt is over now. Winners to be announced on Nov. 2, 2009 at noon Eastern time.

The Stiletto Gang

_________________________

Cast of Characters

Heroine – Milla Adams – private detective
Sidekick – Fletcher Jones – police detective

Victim – Carla Jordan – deceased, personal assistant to G. Winston Howard

Suspects –
G. Winston Howard – millionaire, host of Halloween Ball
Buffy St. James – librarian, current girlfriend of G. Winston Howard,
Walter Jester – aide to Carla Jordan
Alana Carter – groundskeeper
Liza Barrymore – hired by Diana Trent to do costume makeup for party
Amazing Harry – escape artist hired by G. Winston Howard for Halloween Ball
Mayor Juan Reyes and his wife Sonya – guests at the Halloween Ball
Steven McCall – owner of large construction company, friend of Howard family
Julius and Frieda Rosen – they run Rosen Catering, the catering company
Dr. & Mrs. Paul Trent – Diana is the first ex-wife of G. Winston Howard.

It was a full moon. The man in the mask waited just outside the door, the dim silver light glinting off the metal blade in his hand. He was patient, much more so than the detective chasing him.

The woman inside the house paused, her hand on the doorknob. Fear etched her features. It was obvious that she knew the odds were against her. She was chasing a serial killer. The blood from his last kill was still fresh on her mind … and her shoes.

Red stilettos.

Milla Adams woke up with a start. Her television was still on. The late night slasher movie was on its third or fourth airing in a row, some kind of a Halloween marathon. It wasn’t the screams that had awakened her, or the mixing of reality with fiction in her dreams, it was her very loud telephone.

Time to go to work.

***

Milla checked her makeup in the lighted mirror on the visor of her red Porsche Boxster convertible. The car, the shoes, the perfect makeup – she had an image to protect, even when it was inconvenient – like when making a 3 a.m. call to one of her wealthier client’s mansion.

Ducking under the yellow crime scene tape, she spied a familiar face. “Fletcher? How’s Lydia?” With her trade mark red stilettos adding three inches to her tall frame, Milla was almost eye-level with her old friend. They had gone through the police academy together more than twenty years ago. He’d married another recruit and made a career of the police department. He was the lead detective on the murder investigation.

“Sleeping, which is what I was doing before the police chief called and told me I was catching this murder. Who called you?”

“G. Winston Howard, himself. He told me he was about to be arrested for the murder of his personal assistant.” Milla had spent ten years working as a police detective before leaving to open her own private high-dollar detective and security business. By the time she’d turned forty last year, she’d established a reputation for discretion and quick results. She’d need both on this job.

“Seems like he’d have been better off calling his lawyers.”

“Oh, he’s done that too. But he thought if the real murderer could be discovered before Monday, he could avoid some of the adverse publicity. His friend the mayor thinks so too.”

“Figures. The mayor was one of the guests at Howard’s party. He fancies himself a cop because he played one on TV.” Fletcher frowned. “I wish the police chief had mentioned he was being overruled by the mayor on this case. I could have stayed in bed and let you sort it out.”

“Not party – ball. Halloween Ball. It’s an annual charity thing. And I’m not taking over. I’m just here to make some inquiries.” She gestured towards the doorway. “Will you show me the crime scene? I’m on deadline, no pun intended.”

***

She pulled out her voice recorder and spoke softly into the tiny gadget.

“3:30 a.m. Friday, October 30, 2009. Residence of G. Winston Howard, multi-millionaire, or depending on the time of day and the stock market – billionaire- adventurer, and well-known philanthropist. At approximately 2:10 a.m. Miss Carla Jordan, aged 35, was found dead in Mr. Howard’s greenhouse by a groundkeeper … note to self—these are rich people so greenhouse might be called something else. Miss Jordan was Mr. Howard’s personal assistant. Detective Fletcher Jones reported that approximately 30 people attended the annual Halloween ball as guests. In addition, the caterers brought a staff of ten to dole out the food and drinks. According to his preliminary report, Detective Jones has eliminated all but thirteen as suspects in the murder. Second note to self—make sure to cross-check their alibis against each other.”

Milla leaned over the body for a better look. Clicking on her recorder she added, “The victim is in costume—dressed as a giant sunflower. Brown leotard, yellow petaled headdress. Not a particularly attractive look for her. Her hands are dirty – like she was potting some plants. Several of her fingernails are broken. Blood is pooled on the floor near her chest and right hand. The coroner has yet to determine time of death, but witnesses put her alive and well on the dance floor at 1:30 a.m. The cause of death appears to be the large knife sticking out of her chest.”

——

To read the rest of the mystery visit Evelyn David’s website for the full text.

Hallopalooza – The Reveal

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Dear Reader –

Hopefully you have visited all the participating blog sites and you’ve returned here to solve the mystery.

Put on Milla’s stiletto shoes and solve the mystery. If you’ve visited all the blog sites, you have all the clues necessary to reveal the killer. Put your mystery solution into an email to stilettogang@gmail.com or leave it as a comment on this blog. (All comments are being moderated during the Scavenger Hunt so that solutions won’t be posted until after the winner is announced. If you choose to leave a comment, remember to provide a contact e-mail address in the body of your comment. Please submit only one mystery solution per individual. If you send more than one solution, only the first one received will be considered.)

E-mails and comments must be received by 5 p.m. ET, Sunday, November 1, 2009, to be eligible for prizes.

Prizes for solving the mystery are as follows:

The grand prize is a $50 gift certificate that the winner can use for books from any online or bricks and mortar bookstore (winner’s choice of bookstore) plus autographed books.. If multiple readers solve the mystery, we will have a drawing to select the grand prize winner.

Runners-up will receive a book from one of the authors of The Stiletto Gang. If there are more than 10 Runners Up, then there will be a drawing among the Runners Up for the books – maximum number of books to be awarded by The Stiletto Gang is ten (10).

Winners will be announced at noon ET on Monday, November 2 at the Stiletto Gang blog site. https://www.thestilettogang.com/

Thanks so much for participating! Happy Halloween!

The Stiletto Gang

Warning: Nudity

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I’m going with a theme this week with blogging. Nudist resorts. Ever been to one? Want to? Would you if it was essential for research (or some other aspect of your life)?

I’ve been to a nudist resort, all in the name of research. See, in the currently-being-written third book in the Lola Cruz Mystery Series, Bare Naked Lola, Lola must go to a nudist resort to solve the case she’s working on. The question I’m faced with is: Will she, or won’t she–get naked, that is? Now, if you’ve read Living the Vida, Lola, you might be able to give an opinion on this. I know what my gut says, but I haven’t been faced with writing that particular scene yet so I can’t say for sure which way I’ll go with it.

I sort of imagine it as a Lucy and Ethel scene from I Love Lucy…all darting behind bushes and holding big leaves up!

But before I could write a single scene about a nudist resort, I had to go there and visit. And go I did. It was October, so the place was actually pretty quiet. People walked around with their shoes on and a towel slung over their shoulders (the towels are to sit on where ever you go, something I wouldn’t have known about had I not visited). Women are allowed to cover their bottom half during a certain time of month, but otherwise, if you are there, you are expected to be unclothed.

As I mentioned over at Good Girls Who Kill For Money Club on Monday, one of the most hilarious aspects was Nudestock (ala Woodstock)–and no, the bands didn’t have to be nude, although it was encouraged. Maybe Nudestock isn’t so different from the free-loving original, but still, it is something to see.

In book two of the my series, Hasta la Vista, Lola! (coming out in just 3 short months!), Lola didn’t have to do anything outrageous (other than breaking and entering, babysitting two nephews and a niece, and keeping her hands off Jack Callaghan), but there’s something so fun about putting your characters through something you’d never in a million years do. It tests you and your own boundaries and it can definitely make for hilarious scenes.

So here’s my question. What outrageous things have you done (in the name of research, or otherwise)? Would you visit a nudist resort? Just how daring are you?!

XO Misa

Halloween Then

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It’s that time of year again, when many little children (except for the ones who have parents who think that Halloween is for pagans; I, myself, worship at the feet of the god of chocolate) don costumes and roam the streets, looking for candy. And thank goodness they do! Mama needs a 100 Grand bar to satisfy that sweet tooth.

It’s not like the old days, though, when we used to get up early, particularly if Halloween was on a Saturday like it is this year, put on our flammable costumes, and roam the streets in groups, hoping not to be picked up by a serial killer, get an apple with a razor blade in it, or worse. I remember my mother sending us out, me in charge by age seven, and going up and down every street in our development, hitting every house until our environmentally-unfriendly plastic bags were bulging with candy. The rule? When your bag was too heavy to carry, you went home. Nobody in the group was carrying your bag for you (and yes, I’m looking at you, Colleen) so if you couldn’t heft it, you were out of luck.

To illustrate just how different Halloween now was from Halloween then, I’ve brought along a few family photos. Captions will explain who is who. Enjoy.

1. This is my grandmother. She took us trick or treating this particular year; I think it’s 1968. She thought it would be funny to wear one of her dead husband’s suits and put a bag over her head. It wasn’t. She scared half of the children in the neighborhood, not to mention the grownups. We left her home the next year.


2. We call this one “Bride of the Living Dead.” This is my sister, Tricia, at four years old. I don’t think my mother was going for “recently exhumed corpse” with this look, but that’s what she got.


3. Shazam! (Need I say more?)


4. Shazam revealed! (Fooled you, huh?)

5. This one is from the “When Bad Costumes Happen to Good Children” collection, currently on display at the Smithsonian. Again, my sister and her friend, Janet, look far more sinister than I think either of their mothers intended. (Notice Tricia’s lovely bridal corsage; that definitely looks like it’s been underground for some time.) Let’s just say that my father knocked off of work from the police department early and came home only to see these two lovely creatures before they set out on their candy grab. He ended up running screaming from the house thinking that trolls had gotten loose from under a bridge.

6. I think this might be a real gypsy. Note my sister’s concerned expression in the background. I think she’s been shaken down for all of her candy but she’s not sure how or why.


7. And here I am with two of my three siblings, further cementing my youngest sister’s contention that there are NO PICTURES OF HER.

I hope everyone has a safe and happy Halloween!

Maggie Barbieri

Trick or Treating Past and Now

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Halloween was always my favorite holiday. You’ll see why the past tense when you get to the end of the blog. As a kid, I was the last one to come in from trick-or-treating. Once I learned where the homemade cookies, popcorn balls and candy apples were being handed out, I was off like a streak. I didn’t have to be with anyone else–my goal was to gather up as much good stuff as possible. For those who don’t know, I was a kid during World War II and sugar was rationed. Treats were hard to come by–trick-or-treat was the opportunity to stock up.

The closest I ever ran into trouble was about five blocks from home and it was about 9 p.m. When I knocked on the door a man came out with a shotgun aimed right at me. He said, “Do you know what I do to trick-or-treaters?” My “No sir,” was squeaky and I was sure I’d soon be dead. He said, “I give them candy.” He dumped a whole bunch into my sack.

When my kids were young every costume they had was homemade. I can’t remember them all. When my first one was a baby, she was dressed in white and I said she was the little cloud who cried–she did because all the scary costumes scared her. That didn’t stop me from collecting the treats though.

One of my sons suffered being dressed like a girl when he was six. We created a bookworm costume once. The girls were good at putting on lots of bright skirts and raiding my jewelry box to become gypsies or princesses. Through the year I collected bits and pieces that could be turned into costumes. Half my hall closet was crammed with various costumes we concocted.

For those coming to our house trick-or-treating, we often thought up some scary way to hand out candy. One time they had to put their hand in a box to get the candy which was handed out by a very grizzly hand.

When the kids came home with their loot, we wouldn’t let them eat it until we checked everything for problems like hidden pins or razor blades–and we ate one or two of the best treats.

We had lots of Halloween parties too over the years for kids and grown ups. For the kids we usually had a darkened haunted house to go through, and grizzly things to touch, like cooked, cold spaghetti that we called guts. Hubby would rattle chains outside the window and wear a scary mask. The grownups tried to outdo one another with their costumes.

Now we live where all the houses are far apart and ours is down at the end of a very dark and long lane. No one comes to our house trick-or-treating. When we first moved here we had twin girls who lived next door and they were the only ones brave enough to come knocking on our door at night to say, “Trick or Treat.”

We have a granddaughter and her husband who decorate their front lawn every year with the spookiest stuff imaginable. Tombstones, coffins with lids that open, ghosts fluttering in the breeze. They live in a neighborhood full of kids–everyone looks forward to seeing what he’ll come up with every year.

Celebrating Halloween for us will be limited to watching scary movies on our TV. It’s okay, I have great memories of past Halloweens.

Celebrate Halloween with the Stiletto Gang this year by going on the scavenger hunt to follow the clues and maybe win some prizes.

Marilyn

Trick or Treat

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Chanukah brought presents – eight nights of presents (although I always argued that socks did not a present make). But Halloween brought candy, oodles and oodles of candy. It was the one night of the year that all nutritional discussion was suspended. There was no need to make the inevitable dinner bargain of “eat your vegetables” and you can have dessert (inevitably jello with fruit cocktail). A chocoholic from birth (I literally took my first steps when a cousin offered me some chocolate cake) – Halloween was, without question, my favorite holiday.

When I had my own kids, Halloween meant months-long discussions of costumes. Still wearing bathing suits, my kids always had grand plans for creative get-ups that required the costume department of Paramount Pictures to execute. I remember one year, son number one wanted to be a knight. He had visions of a full-suit of body armor, but settled for being wrapped head-to-toe in aluminum foil. I loved the year when one of the kids decided to be an undercover FBI agent – which meant wearing his father’s trench coat, an old felt fedora, and hand-printing an ID badge that he flashed at the neighbor before announcing “trick or treat.”

I adored it when my kids brought their friends back here for the “sorting the candy” ritual. I hovered at the edges of the great swap meet, happily taking the rejects, occasionally making a plea for an Almond Joy or two.

Now my job is just to hand out candy to the neighborhood kids who visit. Like the postman, neither rain, nor sleet will stay the rounds of children on Halloween. I’m already fretting if I have enough goodies – and pennies for Unicef.

And of course, this Halloween will be extra special with the kickoff of the Stiletto Gang’s First Annual Hallopalooza. The first clue will be found right here, and you’ll have a fun trip through a maze of mystery blogs, each one providing a clue to an amazing mini-murder mystery. You’ll have the opportunity to win lots of prizes – so don’t miss Hallopalooza, Friday October 30 through Sunday, November 1.

Boo!

Evelyn David

Murder Takes the Cake by Evelyn David
Murder Off the Books by Evelyn David
http://www.evelyndavid.com

Can My Shorts Get Me a Novel Deal?

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Chelle Martin is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Romance Writers of America, The Cassell Network of Writers, and the Short Mystery Fiction Society. She’s a past Vice President of Sisters in Crime-Central Jersey and creator of the Clued In Press Award for short mystery fiction. Chelle has also been a mentor for MWA’s Mentor Program and a judge for RWA’s Golden Heart and other writing contests. She is the recipient of numerous writing awards, including the New York Chapter of RWA’s Love & Laughter Contest. She is currently working on a humorous mystery novel series.

First of all, thanks to Rhonda and The Stiletto Gang for allowing me the opportunity to be a guest blogger. I love writing short stories and it’s great to have the opportunity to encourage others to write as well as read them.

From a writer’s standpoint, short stories have many advantages over novels as recently discussed by members of the Yahoo Group, Short Mystery Fiction Society. Writing shorts allows a writer the occasion to explore various genres. A short story takes much less time to write than a novel. And shorts also allow writers to change characters and setting and use a different voice.

Additionally, the turnaround time can be shorter and you can see your name in print a lot sooner.

Before you wonder if you could actually make a living writing nothing but short stories, look at author Edward D. Hoch, who over five decades published over 900 short stories. Most impressive is that for the last 35 years of his career, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine published one of Hoch’s stories every month from 1973 until his death in 2008.

My first short piece was published in an anthology called Romance Recipes for the Soul by Pisces Press. I can’t tell you how exciting it was to see my name in print. Our publisher also hosted a signing party at our local Borders Books. It’s quite a feeling of accomplishment to see people buying your books and asking for your autograph. The fact that I was signing with a dozen other writers made no difference.

Getting that first publishing credit opened the door to other opportunities. After joining the Short Mystery Fiction Society, I discovered editor Michael Bracken was looking for mysteries for an anthology called Small Crimes. After selling my first mystery story to him, I was invited to submit to another anthology of private eye stories called Fedora III. I’d never written a PI story before, but gave it a shot and sold that story, too.

I had won a writing contest online and the prize was my own page on a website for writers. There I met writers and publishers from all over the world.

From that point, I established quite a resume with contest awards and publishing credits with various small presses. I’m now published nationwide.

Once when discussing writing with Mary Higgins Clark, she told me she got her start writing short stories. I told her I found them easier to write than a novel. She suggested looking at writing a novel like writing a bunch of short stories—each chapter should convey a beginning, middle and end of that portion of the novel. I’d never thought of it that way, but it made the idea of writing a novel less intimidating.

Another advantage to short stories is getting your name out there, especially if you find your story in an anthology with well-known authors. I live in New Jersey, yet I’ve networked a great deal in California with various Sisters in Crime Chapters. The San Joaquin chapter knows me quite well. I’ve taken second place twice in their annual Dead Bird writing contest.

While the publishing market is shrinking, there are still some good places to submit your shorts. As in novel writing, be sure to follow submission guidelines.

Chelle Martin

Hey, You Got Romance in My Mystery!

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In my inaugural post here at The Stiletto Gang, I want to start out by giving the high-heeled ladies a big high-heeled shout out.

I’m so thrilled to be here! They are such a great bunch of women, fabulous writers, and I’m happy to be in their company.

And now, here’s a little snippet of…

What a die-hard romance reader might say of a hybrid mystery romance: “Hey, you got mystery in my romance!”

What a die-hard mystery fan might say of a hybrid romance mystery: “Hey, you got romance in my mystery!”

Brings to mind a certain Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercial of by-gone years, doesn’t it?



Depending upon how you look at it, a mixed genre book starts out as one thing, then something else gets sprinkled into it. I don’t know what convensional wisdom says about mixed genre books; I just know what I like. A little romance makes the world go ‘round.

I love having romantic tension infuse a character’s growth.

I thoroughly enjoy reading (and writing about) characters who don’t exist purely in the vacuum of solving a mystery.

For me, a mystery book is made all the better when love enters into to. And if it’s a series where love grows, all the better. I want to spend time with the characters and grow with them, experience the blossoming of their love, and feel the satisfaction when they’ve committed to one another on the heels of solving whatever mystery is in their lives and potentially keeping them apart.

I also think that this type of hybrid book is a harder sell. Finding a home for Living the Vida Lola was a challenge for just this reason. It isn’t traditional mystery. Nor is it traditional romance. Publishers didn’t quite know what to do with it or how to market it. But it did find a home and since its publication, I’ve read quite a few mixed genre mystery romances. What the big deal is with marketing, I’m not really sure, but readers have made it known that they like a little romance in their mystery, or… a little mystery in their romance.

How about you? Are you a traditionalist? Like your mysteries and romances pure, or does mixing it up give you a thrill?


The Top Chef Effect

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As all of you faithful Stiletto Gang readers know, I love tv. Especially reality tv. But one of my favorite shows is Top Chef and right now, we’re in the middle of Season 6 which seems to be barreling toward a finale including both Voltaggio brothers, Jen from Philadelphia, and Kevin with the pig tattoo. It’s scintillating stuff if only for the fact that includes two of my favorite things: a) food and b) tension. What could be better than sixteen chefs battling it out to find out who will be Top Chef while living in a house with total strangers for several months? It’s a perfect storm, if you ask me.

But in addition to being a totally enjoyable viewing experience, I have noticed that Top Chef is seeping into other portions of my life, namely my cooking habits and my dining out experiences. For instance, while cooking dinner, I try to invent a “flavor profile” while preparing my dishes. I still don’t know what that is, but right now it consists of more butter, extra salt, and a little more cheese on the pasta. Nobody here seems to mind. Next, I try to plate creatively. So, rather than dump the spaghetti right onto the plate, I try to artfully arrange it into an interesting pattern to create a visual experience for the diners, one of whom is a vegetarian, one who only eats smoked and cured meats, and one who is on a low-roughage diet. Doing the artful plating makes me forget that I’m making three separate dinners every night and still not pleasing anyone in the process. And digging into the artfully plated food helps drowns out the sighs and moans of the diners who are being served these dinners, many of which they don’t like. So, as you have probably guessed, food and tension are both integral parts of my everyday life which further illustrates why I love of Top Chef.

Top Chef has influenced my dining-out experiences as well. Husband and I went to dinner the other night at a place I’ll call “Ye Olde Inne” or YOI for short. YOI has a great reputation around these parts yet we had never been there and were anxious to try it. The plan was to have dinner with friends who live on the other side of the county, so YOI seemed like a good halfway point for both couples to meet. Ambiance was lovely, server was hysterically funny and more than competent, but drinks? Eh. Food? More eh. Price? Over the top expensive for what we were served.

Here’s the thing: when I go out and order a cocktail, I want a cocktail. My urinary tract health notwithstanding, a glass of cranberry juice masquerading as a cosmopolitan just does not cut it. Jim’s scotch and water looked just like water—no amber hue evident in that ice-filled glass of a supposed stiff cocktail. My salad of arugula, beets and goat cheese was pretty good because how bad can you mess up goat cheese and beets? The menu promised locally-grown tomatoes and since we’re into fall, I was skeptical. (Turns out I should have gone with my gut; the tomatoes were on their last legs.) And to look at? The plate resembled the remnants of a salad once picked over and pushed to the side, with the arugula sitting in a sad-looking mess under a half moon of beet and a dollop of goat cheese that had fallen off the center of the plate and listed toward the edge, desperately trying to hang on while being transported to the table. I thought about my own attempts at plating and decided that even my half-hearted, misunderstood groupings of spaghetti looked better than this mishmash of ingredients, thrown together in a professional kitchen.

My friend and I ordered two glass of chardonnay to have with dinner. We were served pinot grigio. Twice. (The bartender looked kind of surly so I was afraid to bring this error to his attention.) Dinner was acceptable, but not overwhelmingly fantastic. The bill, on the other hand, bordered on overwhelmingly fantastic in terms of its total. Seems that YOI is fine with serving mediocre meals at an exceptionally high price.

So I’m wondering: am I more critical because I have a virtual dining experience every Wednesday night and have learned a lot about what goes on in a restaurant and in chef’s minds? Or have I become more particular in my old age? Hard to say. But I will say that I’ve gotten more protective of our hard-earned cash so that when we decide to go to dinner and it is to a place with a reputation for quality, I’m disappointed when the owner and his staff are mailing it in. After all, I had put on Spanx and high heels; I meant business. Why didn’t they?

Is there a Top Chef effect? Has Top Chef and the like made food/restaurant critics of us all? Or is a bad meal just a bad meal?

Maggie Barbieri

No, I’m Not Wonder Woman and I Don’t Wear Stilettos

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Think of this as a confession.

I was recently interviewed on another blog and the interviewer made me sound like Wonder Woman. I can assure you I’m not.

What I am is a great-grandma, grandma, mom and wife who does know her limits. In order to do the writing and promoting that I want and need to do, I’ve given up some things that once were a real part of my life. I no longer shop all year long for Christmas presents. I’ve opted out to give money–and not a whole lot of that. Same goes for birthdays. After all, I have way too many to give to.

The decorating I do for Christmas is now minimal–it takes far too much time to put it all up and take it down. Hubby used to be really good about helping but now he rebels. Easier just not to do so much.

I still invite people over to dinner because I like to cook, but it’s usually spur of the moment now. I no longer set the table with my good China–we use paper plates and I serve buffet style.

Parties were something I loved to put on–we used to have one at least once a month. No more. Not just because a party is a lot of work, but I couldn’t stay up for the end. I get up early these days and I’m early to bed. Oh we do go to parties we’re invited to, but we’re nearly always the first to leave.

At mystery and writers’ cons, hubby and I disappear long before the bars have cleared and the clutches of writers have disbanded.

Promoting takes a lot of time. This month I’m on a blog tour for my latest book, Dispel the Mist, which means I have to let people know where I am every day. Thank goodness for Twitter, Facebook and the like.

I’m also doing physical things like this weekend was the Apple Festival. I always sell a lot of books, handout many cards, and talk to interesting people, but it is a lot of work and tiring. We put up the tent on Friday afternoon, had to be there on Saturday and Sunday a.m. and all set up by 8 a.m. and you must stay until the end or you’re not invited back. Exhausting.

Coming up is a weekend away. I’m giving an hour long talk on novel writing, but it’s a four hour drive to get there. We’ll be staying over–that’s also tiring though I enjoy it.

And now about the stilettos.

A woman wore a snazzy pair at the Apple Festival. They had zebra striped heels. How she managed to walk up and down that mile long street to look at all the displays I have no idea. Years ago I wore high heels all the time, but they were never stilettos. As an old lady, I’m far more comfortable in flats.

That’s my confession for the day.

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com