Gladdy must save her busybody friends from the pricey sances of a phony-baloney New Age guru. That's when Gladdy comes face to face with a dear departed friend with a message.
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|Title of Romance eBook: Getting Old Is Tres Dangereux||Series: Gladdy Gold, , #6|
|Release Date: 06-22-2010|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||Getting Old Is Tres...|
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|Note||ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it.|
Getting Old Is Tres Dangereux
OOOH LÀ LÀ
Jack is behaving very secretively this evening. First, he tells me to dress up for a special evening event. He has something important to say to me.
Well, as dressed up as one ever gets in T-shirt land—that is, our senior citizen condo, Lanai Gardens in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, in case anybody doesn’t know. And also, if you’re behind the times, Jack has been living with me since the horrendous hurricane destroyed his building in Phase Six, two months ago.
I dig out a peach organza cocktail dress I wore once, for my daughter Emily’s wedding, and matching high heels. I’m even wearing makeup and perfume for the occasion.
Jack is in a charcoal pin-striped suit with a cherry red tie and a jaunty white carnation in the lapel buttonhole. I must admit this fiancé of mine is very handsome. As we used to say way back when—tall, dark, and handsome. Even at seventy-five, that description fits him, though his hair, like mine, is mostly gray. On him, gray is dashing. On me, it’s the color of wet cement. Ah, when he smiles at me, I get wobbly in my arthritic knees. When his blue eyes crinkle with adjoining laugh lines, I melt.
Even while getting dressed for tonight, what with our traveling back and forth from bathroom to bedroom, he still won’t give anything away. Despite my obvious curiosity. I note that he seems serious about his evening’s plans.
To make me even more suspicious my sister, Evvie, was not invited, nor were the other of my “girls.” Yes, though we’re all in our seventies and eighties, they will always be my girls: Evvie, my sister, loyal and loving, th...