TURN LEFT AT SANITY
Chapter One
"Do you remember George Murdoch?" asked
Aunt Lydia around a mouthful of cucumber
sandwich. "He was a regular customer.
Sometimes he'd bring that fiddle of his and play
to the girls." She smiled mistily. "He was a fine,
fine man." At seventy-five, Aunt Lydia was an improbable
redhead with a tendency to live in the
past.
The dainty woman on the blue velvet settee,
whose hair was white and float-away delicate,
nodded. "He was hung."
"Really, dear? I thought they'd done away with
capital punishment in Idaho," said Betsy Carmichael,
who'd come in her Sunday best to take
tea.
"More Earl Grey, ladies?" Emmylou Sargent
walked among them with the heavy silver teapot
she'd inherited along with the former brothel
and some of the retired working girls. Afternoon
tea at the Shady Lady bed and breakfast in
Beaverton, Idaho, was a tradition Emmylou had
started a year or so ago when she realized she
was going to need a lot more business if she was
going to make a go of running a B&B in a town
where tourism had plenty of room to grow and
the local industries were ... unconventional. ... read full excerpt from Turn Left At Sanity ebook
