Secrets, lies and . . .
Niccolo traced a strand of my hair away from my neck as we lay in bed. ‘You are otherwise engaged, Lucia.’
Niccolo traced a strand of my hair away from my neck as we lay in bed. ‘You are otherwise engaged, Lucia.’
We are rapidly approaching the night of the famed Veniche Masked Ball and whilst some of the guests know the canal state well, there are those who have never been to Veniche and who barely know the world of Eirie as we know it. Just for a moment let me be your travel guide and take you on a journey that will give you an idea of where you shall be spending this glittering night.
Rebecca’s next chapter:
“Annabelle, my dear, how charming to see you again.” Sarina sank gracefully into a beautifully polished bergère covered in straw colored satin. Following her into the room, a footman deposited her package on a nearby table.
A quick post with an enticement to talk!
As we get the pre-ball notifications and nonsense under way, we invite you to click on the Masked Ball tab at the top of Mesmered’s home page and read away. We also want you to leave all coyness at the door and comment as much as possible prior to, through and after the Ball. The programme (subject to moving faster or slower as the case demands) will be posted for your edification in two days. Our stomachs are fluttering with excitement. I may need smelling salts as Mesmered, but as Lucia Brabante, writer and lover of Ser Niccolo de Fleury, I am fearless. Can’t speak for my co-conspirators!
This is another back-story entry, this time from Maria Grazia of www.flyhigh-by-learnonline.blogspot.com in Rome. Maria says she doesn’t speak english fluently and asks to be forgiven for any lapses, but I think she has done a wonderful job and as we expect from Maria, the lady who has on her blog the wonderful RA Friday, she has perfectly caught RA as we have come to know him. Read on . . .
Scribbler59’s entry in the backstory competition: read on and enjoy the romp!
“But, Marsie, it’s The Must Have Invitation of the Year,” I pouted. “And I toiled to persuade the Direttore of the Museo di Veniche to grant me an invitation … for the two of us, of course,” I added quickly as I squeezed close on the loveseat and caressed a lock of his blonde hair off his furrowed brow.