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Siren Song

Posted on | February 13, 2013 | 2 Comments

P.H. Garrett

He was her siren song. His notes strung on rough good looks and a tall, sinewy  frame. Seventeen and hardly been kissed, she wandered into the urban jungle. He found her there, looking for adventure and indefinable freedoms. Her child-thin arm touched his face. She didn’t recognize the sharp tooth of his smile. Hers was a gentle soul caught in a rip tide. He was older—an actor, he said. His gaze was intense. She followed him up the brownstone steps, excitement and uncertainty in her gait, shyly anticipating the true start of her life. On the third floor the door opened wide—and an unholy screech of drug addicts welcomed her home.

Comments

2 Responses to “Siren Song”

  1. Elyse Gardner
    March 18th, 2014 @ 3:44 am

    I’m intrigued. Is there more? Not my favorite subject, nor not my favorite of your writing, but you certainly do capture the all too familiar scenario… sigh. Could’ve been any one of us.

    See you along the trail…

  2. Manager
    March 20th, 2014 @ 6:13 pm

    This will be part of a new novel, in the works. Not every story uplifts, but that’s what makes a writer’s world go round.

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  • About

    My name is Patrice Garrett. I'm a writer harboring the soul of a cowgirl. I have a penchant for the Old West. I believe, as do many others, that I lived another life and experienced the California Gold Rush first hand. My first two novels reflect my connection with the era.
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