Sleazy N' Easy

~~~

by S. T. Mortenson



This book is dedicated to:

my dearest friends, who sadly, got spoiled the ending by me because I couldn’t shut up about this fucking book.
~~~
This book is also dedicated to everyone who loves murder mysteries set during the roaring twenties. Let's get jiggy!
~~~
Lastly, this book is dedicated to myself, who really wanted to read it, but couldn’t because I had to write it first.



~PROLOGUE~

The lights are bright and dazzling; shimmering and dancing to the rhythm of the French jazz playing on the illuminated speaker from 1924. It was only a couple of years old at this point, but it is the speaker tonight’s host had grown quite fond of. The lights were dancing, but they were dancing alone; as the music played and swung, the guests stayed rather serious. This is a formal and affluent event, after all.

Although the guests did not join in the light’s and music’s flirt, they were still having a blast. The best of them huddled in groups and reveled in each others’ pleasant conversations. Some of the shyer ones stayed at the edges of the room, almost as if they thought they weren’t meant to be there. The European boozes are cold and being indulged in heavily.

Many happy voices are cheerfully and squiffle-y enjoying the night’s youth, but the night can only be young for so long because tonight was going to be a long, long night.

As one of the guests is just about to take the first sip from his scotch glass, a slender hand with carefully lacquered nails snatches the glass, lifting it up to the stage he is on. The spotlight on him was bright, leaving his guests cast as silhouettes just barely visible to him. He could hear the thoughts of someone who’s eyes hadn’t left him once.

(Standing there he seemed to shine brighter than the gleam of any diamond in the sunlight), Or so he just knew a certain someone was fawning as they watched each other from their fixed places in the room. His heart grew warm.

*ting* *ting* *ting*!...