Murder at Midnight at a Masquerade

The dance floor vibrated with footsteps as guests glided, clomped, and stomped across it. The Joker hopped around, laughing like a fool. The Deranged Clown grabbed Margot for a spin around the floor. Dressed in black and white checks and a black mask, An Evil Jester rubbed up against the Smoldering Temptress, whispering crude suggestions in her ear. Covered in voodoo pins from head to toe, the Voodoo Doll danced alone.




But it was Zorro who turned heads from the moment she’d sashayed into the ballroom. Drop dead gorgeous in a crimson body suit and long flowing cape, she had the attention of every male in the ballroom. Her long platinum hair billowed around her voluptuous body and red feather mask. Sheathed in a crimson scaled scabbard, her Zorro sword rested on her left thigh.



The men all stared. The Mysterious Stranger in a black cape swept Zorro away with the moves of a ballroom dancer, looking for all the world like her long lost lover. But as soon as the song ended, another masked guest asked Zorro to dance, and before long, she’d danced with nearly every man at the party.

“Michael,” Margot whispered in his ear. “Everyone is captivated by Zorro. Do you know who she is?”

Michael watched Zorro glide across the ballroom floor with ease. Chic and elegant with the legs of a dancer, she danced the night away, her patent leather heels never touching the ground. A crimson rose pendant graced her long, elegant neck. Michael knew precisely who she was. He’d given her the rose necklace on their wedding night. Taking one final look at Zorro, he pulled Margot into a tight embrace. After kissing her, he whispered in her ear. “I have no idea who she is. Darling Margot, I only have eyes for you. You are the perfect woman.”



The storm that had been brewing all day broke just as the bell tower tolled. Eleven piercing chimes rang out simultaneously with the rumbling of thunder. Winds from the Mohave Desert hurled in through open terrace doors, blowing out the cinnamon-scented candelabras in the ballroom. Pellets of cold hard rain pounded helter skelter on the windows. The crystal chandelier swayed back and forth like a pendulum. It flickered once, then twice. And then all went dark.







Zorro sat at the bar, sipping on a bourbon on the rocks. Michael crept up behind her and whispered in her ear. “Nobody makes an entrance like you do, Darling Candace. You have every man in the place rock hard.”

“Michael,” she purred, her smoky voice as smooth as silk. “I knew you’d recognize me.” She ran her hand over his masked face. “The role of Valentino suits you. You are still the most handsome man I’ve ever set eyes on.”

“And there were certainly enough of them,” his voice came out low and husky. “How many men, Candace? Did you ever keep count of how many lovers you had during our marriage?”

“You were the only one that ever mattered,” she rubbed up closer. “We had something real special between us. And being back in the ballroom tonight brings back all those memories. Like the way you used to hold me in your arms when we glided across the floor. And afterwards,” she slid her hand down his chest—and lower still. “We set the sheets on fire, remember, darling?”

“We had our moments,” he said. “But I also remember kicking your trashy ass out of Vegas and telling you to never return. And yet here you are, an uninvited guest at my masquerade ball. You know the extent of my wrath better than anyone. And yet you dare to defy me. Why is that, Candace?”

“Because I love you, darling,” sexuality oozed from every pore. “You and only you. Let’s sneak up to our old bedroom and see if we can rekindle some old flames. Come on, sugar. Let’s get between those satin sheets and set the night on fire.”

Michael leaned very close, massaging her leg with his fingers. In a voice raw with sexuality, he whispered, “Darling Candace. How can I resist. Meet me in Uncle Carlos’s suite in ten minutes. We’ll ring in the New Year together. You have no idea how much I want to be alone with you. Beautiful, beautiful Candace. I promise to make you scream”

Mask of the Betrayer is on sale for the entire month of May at Whimsical Publications. Now is your chance to purchase it at a discount.


BUY LINK:

http://www.whimsicalpublications.com/sharon_donovan/mask_of_the_betrayer.html



ebook:

http://www.whimsicalpublications.com/books.html

Midnight Treat with Becca Simone

On the eve of Halloween, thunder and lightning clash and collide as the storm rages through the moonless sky. A streak of lightning splits the sky open just as a clasp of thunder erupts. Shutters bang in the howling wind and pellets of hard rain beat on the windows of the haunted mansion. Deep in the woods, a werewolf howls, its keening echoing through the graveyard.

Hello and welcome to The Haunted Mansion! And on this very special eve of Halloween, as we venture closer and closer to the spookiest night of the year, Becca Simone is here to chat with us about her latest release, her Halloween inspired short story,
Midnight Treat.

So grab a big tub of hot buttered popcorn and get ready to scream. And here comes Becca now, making her way up the rickety steps to the manor on the hill. Enjoy the show!


Dressed incognito, Becca Simone raps at the haunted mansion door three times with her blood red fingernails. With a groaning creak, Oliver swings the door open. The pet raven screeches once, then flaps its wings and soars in with Becca.

Oliver: You rang? He grins a beguiling smile

Becca: Oh. My. God. I’ve died and gone to heaven, you big stud. If I wasn’t a happily married woman…

Oliver, costumed as Zorro, extends his hairy arm, but not before flexing his biceps. His double edge sword gleams in the muted light of the candelabras. Then with a roguish wink, he escorts Becca to the parlor. An eerie whistle snakes through the long dark corridor. From the organ, the music plays. Thriller by Michael Jackson. As they enter the parlor, gargoyles stand vigil, holding flickering vampire candles. Sharon sits in waiting, costumed as MadamDe Sade, red brocade dress and beaded filigree mask.

Sharon: Welcome to the Haunted Mansion, Becca. Come have a seat and we’ll chat. Oliver, do bring us refreshments.

From the walls, the skeletons rattle and shake. A woman screams bloody murder. Then manic laughter echoes, sounding as if it’s coming from the final circle of hell.

Sharon: What an interesting costume. Tell us about it.

Becca: I’m dressed as Marie Antoinette because my heroine was dressed as Marie at that fateful costume party. There were two Maries at that party—and the hero got a bit confused. (Becca looks around, eyes narrowed) There aren’t any other Maries here, are there?

Sharon: "So, Becca, first of all, let me congratulate you for your release of Midnight Treat. You must be so thrilled. Tell us about your debut book and how you came up with the setting, story plot and characters.

Becca: Well, I love the idea of mistaken identity. A friend of mine once went to a costume party where another woman was dressed up in the same costume. Her friends kept mixing them up. I knew someday that snippet of info would morph into a story. In MIDNIGHT TREAT, my heroine, Cassie, thinks she’s rented a one-of-a-kind costume. Unfortunately (or fortunately, as it will turn out), her sexy and flirtatious neighbor from upstairs is wearing the exact same costume. The men at the party are hanging all over her, while shy Cassie tries to blend into the shadows and disappear. Later, she’s upstairs in her apartment and falls asleep in her costume. My hero, Josh, is dressed as Zorro, and he’s climbing the fire escape on his way to the lustier Marie’s apartment. He sees Cassie through her window, thinks he miscalculated the floors, and heads inside. Cassie decides not to tell him he has the wrong floor and wrong Marie. This is an erotica, so you can guess what happens next. J

Oliver appears, Whiskey Sours on tray. He presents them along with apple slices and peanut butter dip. Then his eyes glaze over and he stares at Becca. “If I might be so bold as to have your autograph, Ms. Simone?” he stabs himself with his Zorro sword and draws blood. “Crimson is my favorite color. Sign it in blood.”

Becca: Unbutton your shirt so I can sign your chest.

Oliver breaks into an engaging grin and obliges. Your wish is my command.

Sharon: So let’s talk about Zorro. I’ve recently written a book with Zorro as a main character. I personally love the Zorro sword. Why did you choose it?

Becca: I wanted my hero to be dressed in something sexy and romantic, but also a bit intimidating. And the thought of Zorro climbing a fire escape in the rain, on his way to a sexual tryst was just too appealing. Josh used the Zorro sash and sword to his advantage—and Cassie’s!—let me assure you.

Sharon: And without giving anything in your story away, let’s talk about this fantasy to do something naughty, something out of the norm. Do dish with us, Becca. Is this a secret fantasy of yours which inspired you to write about it?

Becca: Secret fantasies are called “secret” for a reason, Sharon. Nice girls don’t kiss and tell. We just write about it. But like I said, I love the mistaken identity theme, of my hero or heroine trying to be something they’re not.

Oh, here comes Oliver with dessert, homemade apple pie. He sets it on the coffin table, cuts it with the greatest of ease with his Zorro sword and feeds it to Becca. Then he waits to be complimented.

The manic laughter and organ continue to rattle the walls.

Becca: There’s just something about warm apple pie that makes me think about sex. Remember the American Pie movies?

Oliver chuckles

Sharon: Let’s talk about Halloween. Do you have a favorite costume or a masquerade party that stands out in your mind? And favorite decorations? Décor?

The ghost from Halloween past floats through the room.

Becca: I was always one of those lame people who decided on a costume at the last minute. Nothing very creative, I’m afraid. But I do love wearing masks. It’s amazing how much more out-going and outrageous we can be when we wear a mask. It’s fun to be someone else for a while.

Sharon: If you’ve ever visited my blog, you know I adore superstitions. Sharon’s black cat leaps from the rafters and lands on Becca’s lap. Tell us, Becca. Do you have any superstitions you’d like to share?

Becca: I’m really not very superstitious. In fact, I’ve been known to walk under ladders, just because. I do believe in karma, however, and what goes around comes around.

But suddenly the raven clock howls and the witching hour ends.

Sharon: Just one more question. What can the wee ones expect to get at the Simone residence on Halloween night?

Becca: Full-size candy bars, of course. Because any candy other than chocolate just isn’t worth eating.

Thank you so much for being brave enough to venture forth into my haunted mansion. Tell readers where they can buy Midnight Treat and get in touch with you.

Becca: Midnight Treat is available on my website, BeccaSimone.com, and at The Wild Rose Press, and Fictionwise.com.

Oliver appears as Thriller blasts on hidden speakers. Dressed in Becca’s favorite costume, a briky, he grabs her and takes her for a spin around the ballroom dance floor.

Happy Halloween to all and to all a good night!

Becca Simone’s short story, MIDNIGHT TREAT, released September 18, from The Wild Rose Press. It’s her first published work of fiction and she can’t be more excited.

BeccaSimone.com

BLURB:
It's mistaken identity gone erotically awry during a Halloween costume party.
Josh Panetti breaks into an apartment Halloween night, thinking he’s fulfilling the sexual fantasy of a woman he just met at a costume party. Instead, he’s broken into Cassie Snow’s place. Cassie immediately realizes his mistake—she’d seen him at the party with her sexy upstairs neighbor. She should tell him he has the wrong apartment and the wrong girl. But she’s always the wrong girl. Would it be so terrible to be the right girl for just one night?

Excerpt

She, Cassie Snow, was smack dab in the middle of another couple’s naughty fantasy.
Zorro hooked his hands under the frame and tugged upward. She gasped. He was
coming inside! He swung his leg quietly over the windowsill, his foot touching carpet.

“You told me you were on the fifth floor,” he said as he swung his other leg inside and unfolded to his full height. His voice was deep and raspy. His white teeth flashed in the dim light as he grinned.

Oh. My. God. Zorro was in her apartment.

“I, ah—” He must have seen her through the window and thought she was the other
Marie. Again. Her insides fluttered with possibilities.

Tell him! He stalked toward the bed like a wild animal hunting its prey. He eased
the sword from its sheath and leaned over her, holding it above her face. She, Cassie
Snow, was smack dab in the middle of another couple’s naughty fantasy. Her eyes widened
and need pulsed between her legs. Tell him he’s in the wrong apartment!

“You said you like to be scared,” he growled, right before he clamped a hand
over her mouth and pressed the back of her head into the pillow.

He held the long silver blade in front of her eyes. “Make a sound and you’re
dead. Understand?” She nodded and immediately stilled. She knew she should tell him
he had the wrong girl. But she was always the wrong girl. Was it so horrible that
she wanted to be the right girl for a change? Was it so wrong that she wished, just
for one night, to be someone else? Someone who acted out naughty role-playing?