*Based on a novel by Jullian Larkin, twisted into the real live events of a dear friend of mine.*
**A girl needs partners when she dances, and I've had some of the best. My thanks to Stephen Rich and Jimmie Perryman, my two best friends and the only men I love; and Ashley Cook, Elizabeth Mull, Brian Rhodes, and the whole brilliant chorus line at Union County High School. Special thanks to my ex for being a backstabbing douche-- you are all the cat's pajamas.**
Prologue
She didn't feel like wearing a garter tonight. Her black-sequined dress, folding in waves of fluidy fringe, covered the intersection between her sheer stocking and bare thigh.
She slipped her right foot into one of her solid Mary Janes, her left foot into the other. The thin black straps went across her ankles, the silver buckles tightened with a sting.
From the articles tossed carelessly across her vanity, she carefully selected her weapons and placed then in a black leather evening bag: vamp-red kiss-proof lipstick, silver powder compact, tortoiseshell comb, ivory cigarette case.
She stared into the mirror. Everything was perfect: Black eyes deep, cheekbones rouged and defined, lips lined and pouty. Tonight, even her skin shimmered with something noticeable.
As she dabbed a final drop of perfume into the crease where her silky bob skimmed her neck, she decided the garter would be necessary. Of course it would.
And then, before snapping her back closed, she added the small black handgun.
Now she was ready.