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NOLA Darkly: Part 1: The Lady Monreau
Coffee poured perfectly from an ivory white cup and onto the surface of the antique silver serving tray. A sweet, damp morning breeze rippled the steamy pool, as Lady Monreau scrutinized the vision forming there. A soft pale slip led to a filthy cab. His ring, blue and glowing. Chance. Not this one, so much a dim reflection. No. Him. Her vice. Her need, and yet her Moby Dick. Chance Lafitte!
NOLA Darkly: Part 1 Little Irish
A Dark Chance
Chance Lafitte folded out of the last hand of stud and took his usual seat at the bar, opposite the entrance. He’d hunted this tavern often over the past two hundred years. Not much of note had changed save for the name. A place for seekers of authenticity. That back-alley experience which strayed from the realm of tourism and into the darker moods.