Chapter Seven
July Two
12:30 A.M.
Amyleth fled to the veranda and leaned against the railing, staring out into the darkness where feeding bats squeaked and fluttered. Back inside the house a gaggle of middle aged matrons were giggling like schoolgirls and stuffing dollar bills into a male stripper’s jockstrap. The sight of all this forced gaiety had become suddenly unendurable to her, but even out here she could not escape the maddening din of their whistles and catcalls.
She told herself that it was their sophomoric behavior she found so disgusting, and not the hairy moron who grinned and gyrated for their applause. With their husbands out of town, they had a rare evening alone, time that might be spent enjoying peace and privacy or pursuing dreams. Instead they were carr
