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BLED DRY
Grethans Exterminators Book 2
A Fractured Fairy Tale
BY DEVORAH FOX

BLURB

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BLED DRY
Grethans Exterminators Book 2
A Fractured Fairy Tale
BY DEVORAH FOX

Excerpt

Gretel and Hans followed Whitney to a genial room furnished with upholstered couches, armchairs, and side tables arranged in large and small conversational groupings. Hardback volumes filled tall bookcases. Curio cabinets displayed vases, figurines, candelabra, clocks, and trophies. Photos, both sepia and color, formal and casual, decorated the walls, as did painted landscapes and formal portraits. The room had a rich lemony aroma.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Whitney said.

A tall man stood alongside a buffet studded with sparkling decanters, pitchers, tall and short glasses, and gleaming barware. A wine rack held scores of bottles. Dark auburn hair fringed a chiseled face. His sparkling white dress shirt, tailored suit, and silky cravat left Hans feeling woefully underdressed, not to mention in need of a haircut. Between his index and middle fingers, he held what looked like a cigarette holder.

Whitney tsked. “Smoking’s a bad habit. You know you should quit.” She scowled at the cigarette.

With a stony expression, he replied, “A man is entitled to one vice.”

Whitney scowled at the cigarette. “You know we discourage smoking in the house.”

“It’s not a cigarette. It’s a vape pen.”

“Not much difference that I can see,” Whitney replied.

“I see we have dinner guests,” the man said.

“This is Hans and Gretel. From Grethans Exterminators. They’ve been working with Hector on those chupacabra attacks. Hans, Gretel, this is Bruno Marroy, Teddy’s older brother. Bruno lives in Atlantic City. He flew in for Orson’s funeral.”

“Making any progress on the attacks?” Bruno asked. “Identified the predator?”

“We only started today,” Gretel said.

And we’d better make some kind of progress soon, Hans thought, so they could offer a positive response to that question.

“I’m mixing up Marroy-tinis,” Bruno said. He scooped ice from a bowl into a shaker and added a variety of ingredients. A few shakes later, he dispensed the contents into stemmed martini glasses. “Don’t hesitate to let me know you don’t like it and would prefer something else. We’ve got wine, beer, liquor—I can fix you almost anything.”

Hans smacked his lips. “What’s in this?”

Gretel said, “Hans’s drink of choice is a Cuba Libre.”

“I’m getting basic martini here,” Hans said. “Gin, vermouth … also something licorice-ish. Anisette?”

“Close but not quite.”

Theodore entered. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’ve had a day. I’ve been fielding phone calls, texts, and emails all day.”

“Sounds like you could use a drink,” Bruno said. He filled a martini glass and handed it to Theodore who took a sip.

“Thanks for mixing up a batch. I needed this. Whitney, did you ever straighten out that mess?”

“Still workin’ on it,” she replied.

Theodore frowned, slumped into a seat and drank more of his cocktail.

Whitney said, “You’ve met Hans. This is Gretel. She’s also with Grethans Exterminators. They’ve been working with Hector on those cattle attacks.”

“Oh, yes. Great. How is that coming?”

“We’re going to need more information,” Gretel said.

Theodore narrowed his eyes. “You don’t work for the government, do you? Need to take a survey?” He snorted. “I’m kidding. I hope we won’t have to lose many more before you figure out what’s causing it.”

Whitney said, “I’ve asked them to stay for dinner. I’m hoping this storm will pass and they’ll have an easier drive home.”

“We appreciate the invitation,” Gretel said.

“What’s the magical ingredient in the Marroy Martini?” Hans asked.

With a sly smile, Bruno said, “Absinthe.”

Hans felt his eyebrows rise. “Really? I thought that was banned.”

“It wasn’t at first. Then it was.” Theodore said. He sipped his drink. “It became popular with the artsy set in the early 1900s. Hemingway, James Joyce, Oscar Wilde. Picasso and Van Gogh. It got a bad reputation. It wasn’t the drink’s fault. More like the wanton behavior of the people who imbibed it.”

Whitney said, “It is high in alcohol. People assume it’s a liqueur. It’s not; it’s a spirit.”

“Speaking of spirits … it was reputed to make you see green fairies. It isn’t at all psychoactive, though it became reputed to be. Ursus was fond of it and never did agree with the ban, so he brewed his own.” Theodore took another sip. “It does have fennel and anise. Those lend the licorice flavor.” He finished off his cocktail. “Well, should we go in to eat?”

About Author Devorah Fox…

Links to Devorah’s websites, blogs, books, #ad, etc.:

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Email: devorahfox@aol.com

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