MY SEXY SATURDAY – CAROLINA VALDEZ

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My paragraphs are from the second book in my Night Train vampire series.

SETTING: FLORENCE, ITALY.

Dusk crept in, and the lamps on the Ponte Vecchio glowed in the soft, settling night. The wet smell of the river, now the deep color of malachite under the fading light, filtered up through the three open arches of the bridge, first built in Roman times.NightTrainNewOrleans_sitepic

One by one, the goldsmiths and jewelers had closed their shops at both ends of the bridge for the night. The bridge was quiet, almost deserted, when three young men arrived. They crouched and laid their battered guitar cases on the stone floor, then opened them and removed the acoustic instruments. Their banter and laughter mingled with the sounds of strings being tuned.

“What happened to the fourth young man who usually plays with them?”

The voice startled Giorgio, a slightly overweight, older street vendor. Thinking he was alone, he’d been boxing up his cheap souvenirs in preparation for folding up his display table and leaving. He turned, and fear rushed through him at the sight of the man whose black hair had been swept back from a high forehead, tucked behind his ears and gelled in place. He was elegantly dressed in an expensive dark suit, and the collar of a coat that brushed the tops of his shoes was turned up to frame and partially hide his pale face.

Giorgio wasn’t wealthy, but he judged everything the stranger wore had been custom made by one of Italy’s world famous designers. He wondered if the designer had intended to convey the sense of menace radiating from the man.

Giorgio was at the far end of the bridge, but he’d seen the young men pass. He knew Dante Rocco, a friend, was the missing musician, but a sixth sense warned him to keep this from the stranger. He played ignorant by asking, “Scuzzi, signor?”

NIGHT TRAIN TO NEW ORLEANS (digital)
NIGHT TRAIN (series in paperback)
Carolina Valdez
Website

Everybody walks past a thousand story ideas every day. The good writers are the ones who see five or six of them. ~ Orson Scott Card

 

 

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