From Book One
An Epiphany On Wall Street
Below are excerpts from Book One in the Nine Inch Bride series, An Epiphany On Wall Street. The first chapter is provided nearly in its entirety, omitting the very beginning, while other excerpts are continuous segments from the chapter indicated.
From Book Two
About the Selections
Selections have been chosen to give some idea of the range and scope of the book and its voices rather than to highlight what is deemed the best or most appealing by some standard.
We invite suggestions from those who have read the book as to which scenes might better serve to introduce the work to prospective readers
AN EPIPHANY ON WALL STREET
FROM CHAPTER 1
What goes up must come down
I dreamed restlessly of a lava slide, a hissing, molten slurry of fire and char that crawled avariciously toward me, my back to a wall of stone with no escape. I dreamed a low music, a bird sound, mechanical and incongruous, banal in the terror of my predicament, a melodic hoax mocking my final moment. The music grew louder as the lava’s breath, a searing stink of sulfur, overcame me. At the last second, breathless and gagging, I was hoisted up and out of the inferno as if by angels.
FROM CHAPTER 2
Takes two to tango
“He called you a looter, and your claim to being more than a financial halfwit was… What did he call it?”
“Yes, that was it, and then something about compensation for being an orphan. He went on and on.”
FROM CHAPTER 3
TO HELL IN A HANDBASKET
I awoke before dawn and took my place by the glass dividing inside from out. The great City lay beyond. I made motions as if to commence a customary activity, over and over, only to find myself again staring numbly out the window.
When I managed to dislodge myself, all attempts at action conspired to humiliate me. I sliced open my finger quartering an orange and spilled coffee on the buffalo rug. I closed my shirt buttons wrong, fumbled a dropped spoon a second time, tried again, and in consequence of rage at the repeated ineptitude, bungled into a third demonstration of the same. A conspiracy of mishaps tore at my dilapidated ego. As punishment, I imagined myself at a booting machine where I could yank on a rope to lever a wallop to my hapless butt.
Some lesson seemed to need learning, but what it was continued to elude me. I had to think and could not. My brain refused to comply. I was merely alive, an animal lost in a stare.
FROM CHAPTER 6
The world according to Sa
[segment from start of chapter]
I nodded off, dozing lightly in the comfort of the food and wine, and awoke to find her standing again before the flame of the candle, her stillness fervent and calm. Watching her there, elbow propped on folded arm, fingers lightly on her chin, I wondered what kind of genie it was standing there before me, what spell she might release into the night.