Her Nocturnal Lover (Chapter One, page 2 of 5)


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The music was loud. The mood pure sherry, and the atmosphere bathed in excitement. At the upper section of the club, Bill Mayan starred at the dancers down the lower section. He leaned against the thin metal bar that caged the upper section of the club. Somehow, he managed to afford a nod slowly as if to himself and partially as though to the troubles that had pushed him coming to the club. At least he could go about all the stress with a bottle of wine to the club Delavigne each and every evening. All most the entire town of Windowmill did, treating themselves to the club each and every single day. Some went as far as spending entire mornings at the club, retiring at 10:00 am and returning as early as 6 pm in the evenings as though with very little to do with their own lives. Maybe it was because Windowmill was such a tiny Island where people knew each other quite personally, lived in firm old castles and never stressed about working because they had inherited large sums.

Bill was still thinking to himself when his eyes caught a thin brunette shaking her ass-off down below. He looked closely at her. Surely must be a stranger and if not, she was the rare one whose name he seldom had any serious person mention. He could tell that she had nothing to lose from the way she was dancing, like Windowmill wasn't such a small town.

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