Dorothea Benton Frank
New York Times Bestselling Author
Dorothea Benton Frank
"...another entertaining tale from the author of Plantation." —Orlando Sentinel
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Isle of Palms (Continued)

Now, you don't know me yet, but by the time I'm all done working my jaw, you're gonna see that I'm not one to blab. Even though I've heard more tales than every bartender in Ireland, I've always tried to keep my distance from trouble. Gossip was trouble and I gave it a wide berth. At least I had tried to. Not that I hadn't had my share of tight spots. Lord! Jeesch! Man! There were days when I thought the Devil himself was out to get me. Maybe he had been, but lately, I had been feeling like he'd been off my case for a while. Not that I'm suspicious, but don't repeat that okay? Saying things were going great might get his attention.

Here's the thing that had landed me in trouble in the first place. Most of my years had been spent careening through life, keeping my plans on a back burner. I kept waiting to live. But wasn't that what women did? Didn't we always put duty to others before our own ambitions? Were we not the caretakers, the peacemakers, the homemakers, the ones who told our men and our children that we are always behind them, no matter what? We told them that everything would be alright and that life was worth living.

Well, most of us tried to do these things. Not all women. Some women are so mean if you looked at them funny your hair could turn into snakes. But all they ever got themselves by being mean was old and bitter. Ooh! I'd tolerated a few of them for too long. Somebody better tell them to run and hide because Anna's talking now. That's me. Anna Lutz Abbot.

My professional life has earned me nothing but beat up ear drums and a grossly under exercised tongue, mainly because I own a salon. I've been working in the salon world for getting on to twenty years. See, when my clients bared their souls, what I thought and what I said were very often two different things. Who in this world has the privilege to really speak their minds? The lunatics, honey, that's who. Naked truth from my lips would have put me in the poorhouse long ago. Besides, isn't it better to try to deal with people and all their problems with some little bit of sympathy? Of course it is. But, bottom line? I have heard it ALL!

Have I got a story to tell? Yeah, honey, let's get you a glass of sweet tea and then plop yourself right down in my chair. I'm gonna tell a lot of secrets, but if I hear them told, I'll come after your tongue with my shears. This entire tale is true to the very last word and all the names and places are real to expose the guilty.

Copyright © 2020 Dorothea Benton Frank. All rights reserved.