A struggling actress and her transgender aunt were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now they are on the run from diamond smugglers in the Witness Protection Program. They have gone totally off grid just to stay alive.The Two U.S. Marshals are packin' heat and the women are packin' Tarot cards in a cross country race to stay alive. Alone to their own devices...Well just anything may happen. Welcome to book one in the Tarot Tales Trilogy
The coffee pot timer chimed and the smell of fresh roast coffee drifted down the hall to
entice Ruby Perkins from her sleep. She glanced at the clock. Today was Aunt Jenna’s birthday.
She slipped into her robe and slippers and padded into the kitchen. Ruby organized ingredients
for her famous orange raisin scones. She could most likely repeat the process from memory, but
today’s occasion demanded perfection, so she pulled the card from the battered recipe book on
the counter. Birthdays without question were special events and orange raisin scones topped her aunt’s list of favorites.
She plopped the raisins into a bowl of warm water to let them plump up, then measured and
mixed all the dry ingredients with pharmaceutical precision. Baking was an exercise in science
and she treated it with all due respect. She introduced the eggs and raisins to the dry ingredients, mixing just enough to moisten the dough. Too much and they could become dry and crumbly. Uncle David had taught her that secret.
She kneaded the dough briefly, formed it into plump little scones, and popped them into the
oven. She set the timer for twelve minutes, and turned on her IPod to blast the house with classic disco music. In her blue chenille bathrobe, Ruby might not have the Donna Summer look, but she had the moves; she certainly felt like “Hot Stuff”. Ruby knew many people who sang in the shower, but she wondered if everyone turned their home into a “Boogie Wonderland” when they made scones and cleaned house. Ruby didn’t know or care and danced her way up the stairs to the bathroom like a Solid Gold Dancer.
After a quick shower, Ruby dried her hair and swept it back from her face with an elastic
band. The weather report promised a hot and humid scorcher of a day; by mid-afternoon, she
would look like Medusa if she didn’t tame her curls. She grabbed her favorite yellow blouse and denim shorts and finished getting dressed for the day. She did not go heavy on the makeup.
Today called for understated makeup, so she applied her definition of the minimalist look.
Ruby dabbed dragon’s blood oil behind her ears and on her wrists. She did a quick check in
the mirror and gave a quick nod of approval. She made it half way to the kitchen before she spun on her heel and trotted back to her bedroom. She pulled out the elastic, spent some time
backcombing and hair spraying, intensified the color on her eyes, puckered up to apply fuchsia
lipstick, then grabbed her favorite earrings and necklace. “If I’m hit by a bus today, for Goddess sake, I don’t want to be mistaken for a homeless woman or, worse yet, a cleaning lady or a housewife with no sense of fashion. She stared at the mirror one more time. She was a 28-year old woman with curves, she liked what she saw, despite Aunt Jenna’s gloomy predictions that doomed Ruby to full-blown spinsterhood in a few years, and her uterus was a ticking time bomb.